Forging Middle Ground
by TwasSuchAPity
Summary: PostFC. AU-ish. Kaeha Malik has a score to settle and organizations to bury. To Erik and Charles, she's perfect. She's lethal on the battlefield and has a powerful mutation. She's a kindred soul that adores literature and lives on tea. Incidentally, she also forces estranged friends together to fix the bridges they burned. In essence, she's order to their erratic chaos. [Erik/OC]
1. What Do You Need?

Bright fluorescent lights glare into yearning hazel eyes trapped behind thick glass. Gentle tugs of energy call out to her in tantalizing wisps just beyond her reach. However, the bruised brunette knows better than to succumb to temptation or typical self-destructive defiance. Previous failed attempts already caused the smell of burning flesh to permeate the holding cell. It's a cruel slap as a reminder of her helpless situation.

Kaeha weakly glares at the heavy manacles curled around haggard ankles and wrists. The infernal devices are prototypes of energy inverters specifically designed to turn her energy mutation into a double-edged blade instead of salvation. Anger bubbles in her veins as all the mutant can see is furious red.

_I'll destroy them all, I swear it._ She vows grimly.

Her keen senses, dulled marginally by captivity, picks up the quiet creak of a door. Muscles inevitably lock up to brace for an oncoming burst of energy from the endless maze of wires and tubes. Her captors were fond of watching the mutant thrash and scream until she passed out once the scientific experiments got tiresome.

Stubborn will forced them to utilize high voltages of energy to elicit even the smallest reaction. Kaeha always refused to grant them an easy victory. Thus, the energy mutant looks up to glare defiantly at her tormentors only to blink in confusion. Despite her vision being warped by dense layers of glass, she still recognized the slender blonde standing before her.

Catherine Evans; the only researcher that blatantly refused to intentionally inflict harm upon Kaeha and instead tended to some of her more severe wounds secretly. She's a secret miracle Kaeha treasures and one that should be _asleep_ instead of sneaking into laboratories. Catherine glances over her thin shoulder warily before turning back to the mutant.

Pale hands form the signs for_ Silence. Danger. Wait. _Brows furrow in bewilderment as her auburn head dips into a wincing nod due to a broken neck clavicle. Catherine stoically mirrors the gesture, striding over to the flashing controls before commencing a system override. Hazel eyes widen when glass walls sink back into the floor and the bonds pinning Kaeha to the wall retract. Drugged limbs crash to the floor in a messy heap and she gasps when energy slams into her neglected form.

_Well now, that was unexpected. And painful. _She muses dryly.

Her head spins wildly from the unexpected surge of adrenaline fueling her veins. However, Catherine deigns a second to recover her breath as unnecessary by grasping thin shoulders and hauling Kaeha to her feet. The world meshes into a whirl of colors but she handles it better this time. Fresh wounds jar her concentration with spikes of pain but she feels her skin knitting back together. Good; she hated looking at arms riddled with needle marks.

"We don't have much time. They intend to start on the children tomorrow." Catherine hisses.

Kaeha takes a moment to appreciate the righteous anger lacing each syllable before snapping back into focus.

"What do you need?" She hoarsely questions, voice cracked and raspy from the last session.

"My associates are freeing the children but they are still weakened by drugs. I need you to remove _any_ and _every_ obstacle." Catherine calmly replies.

The brunette fixes her a level gaze for a solid minute before tapping into her mutation. Invisible fingers stretch across the compound and reach out to pick up all forms of life. Thrumming dots of light fill the three-dimensional mental view of the confidential facility she was held in. The children with a mildly different energy wavelength from their mutations cluster about at a lower level of the building.

"Are you certain?" Kaeha murmurs after sensing an armada of militant staff blocking their escape route.

Despite her concern, the energy user is already running through a series of battle plans and worst-case scenarios. Judging by their weight and gait, the guards are fairly hefty. She had to be sure to generate enough electricity to knock them out when she commences her attack. Catherine nods and tightens her grip around Kaeha's shoulders.

"I'm sure." She answers, her voice neither wavering nor faltering.

Kaeha needs no other confirmation. The brunette steps out from Catherine's grip and turns towards the door to act as a shield for the researcher. Concentration sweeps across her delicate face as eyebrows narrow and chapped lips form a taut line. Slowly, but surely, pure, unadulterated energy crackle along her knuckles before folding into multiple orbs of lethal power.

Now, alarms start to blare in shrill wails and Catherine berates herself for being careless. The room was embedded with energy sensors directly wired to the alarm system she forgot to disarm. Kaeha, however, ignores her rant by focusing on splitting the orbs into smaller versions that slowly fill the room. Feet thunder into harried action as muffled barks of orders echo beyond thin walls.

_It's now or never._ She muses.

Kaeha takes in a deep breath before emptying her mind of her conscience and emotions and just_ lets go_.

* * *

Charles quietly wheels himself down a darkened hallway and smiles absently at the steady thrum of unconscious minds blanketing him. The only active mind besides his is Hank who's busy toiling away at Cerebro and her recent errors. Rolling to a halt by the window, the telepath gazes out at sprawling lawns and absently brushes his immobile legs. The gesture is slowly forming into a habit and each time it happens, Erik flashes through his mind.

"I believe I miss him." Charles mutters to himself, wistful smile reflected against the glass.

Erik may have crossed a few unspoken lines between them but the telepath missed his brilliant mind nonetheless. It was surprising how narrow the world appeared without his friend to constantly challenge and expand his views. He would never admit to being lonely but that's exactly what it feels like. However, before delving too deeply into the complex emotions, Charles snaps out of his ruminations when Moira's familiar mind suddenly surges into life within his.

_Moira, please, _calm_ down._ He urges towards her frantic mind.

Erratic thoughts continuously shift their focus in lightning-fast snaps. All he manages to gather from the whirlwind frenzy are glimpses of a Californian lab, auburn hair and high-tech cells embedded with tubes of glowing liquid before reaching a winded Moira. The agent falls into a plush chair and spreads out jumbled folders across an oak table as she gulps down air.

"California. Rogue mutant. Dangerous. Erik." She whispers breathlessly, finger stabbing separate files with each word.

Cerulean eyes flicker up in interest at the familiar name before settling back on the folder he picked up. He cringes at the gruesome details of experiments conducted on young mutants and visibly flinches at various photographs. Unable to withstand more, the telepath drops it atop a manila pile while color drains from his skin.

"What _is _this?" Charles murmurs, face pale with nausea.

Moira graciously pushes aside gorier documents and instead flips open two. Curiosity spikes at the photograph under his gaze: auburn tresses, serene expression, sharp jawline and intelligent hazel irises. _Kaeha Malik_ titles the page, paltry details in short lines occupying the page beneath the picture. Quietly absorbing the information, he nods silently for Moira to explain the unknown variables.

"There has been a new unnamed anti-mutant organization. They capture mutants, orphans or those that could be missed for experimentation. Their intent is to discover ways to neutralize mutations." She explains, regaining her composure when Charles relays soothing cues into her despairing mind. "A few unlisted laboratories were utilized for their 'cause'. We were in the midst of collecting intel to shut them down until each lab started blowing up one by one."

"A mutant." The scholar nods in understanding, the brunette's biography now falling into place.

"Erik intends to recruit her." Moira reveals when Charles opens his mouth to speak.

He laughs in surprise before smiling guiltily. She didn't need to be a telepath to read his mind. Well, it was either their friendship was good enough to warrant similar thought patterns or the disturbing notion that his thoughts were transparent to the intelligent agent. Discomforted by a feeling it was the latter, slender fingers steeple together as Charles glances through Kaeha's file once more.

"What does this have to do with me? She seems to veer more towards Erik's beliefs." He hesitantly remarks.

For a long moment, Moira merely gazes at the professor in quiet deliberation. Charles, refusing to squirm under her piercing stare, stares at a coffee mug stain and makes a mental note to get that fixed. A heavy sigh announces Moira's defeat on maintaining the silent treatment at his resistance.

"Erik runs a high risk of getting hurt if he pursues this alone." She finally answers.

Charles chokes on his breath at the implication.

"You want me to _help _him? You cannot be serious." He sputters in disbelief, fingers grasping his chair hard enough to turn knuckles white.

The simple request seamlessly tossed his normal world into a figurative blender. Moira leans over to gently pry pale fingers off of the armrests and loosely cradles them in her palm. The broken rules and lines of his world slowly mend themselves by centering around the warmth of her calloused skin. It grounds him and returns some color to chilled skin.

"This is entirely your call, Charles. I would appreciate your help in securing her and I think Erik would appreciate the unwanted help no matter what he says." She cajoles brightly,

Meddling in Erik's affairs once was her favorite pastime as the pair never got along. Pale lips twitch upwards to reflect her smile despite memories from a year before cut into emotional scars. Focusing back on the task at hand, Charles contemplates the possible scenarios and outcomes that could occur if he didn't intervene. The conclusion elicits a sigh of resignation; escape is impossible.

"What do you need?" He murmurs.

* * *

_**Author Mini Rant:**_

_**Oh my, I can't believe I've actually written an entire chapter. :O**_

_**Alright, so I have a vague idea where I want to go with this but forgive me if there are a few errors and OOC-ness going on. I haven't ironed out all the kinks yet but hopefully I'll actually complete a story and make history. *crosses my fingers***_

_**By the way, please do message me if you notice any grammar errors or typos. I tend to miss those since I'm a derp like that. *rolls out***_


	2. Ruined Plans

Reclining against the bark of a looming fir tree, alert hazel pools survey the rundown building on the grounds below her. There isn't any movement seen outside the crumbling gates save for an errant squirrel. Kaeha, however, senses otherwise. Invisible waves of heat energy emitted by the people within roll towards her waiting palm causing tiny sparks to whiz around her fingers.

Grudgingly, she had to give credit where it was due though. Unlike the other three facilities she 'visited', this one resided multiple levels underground with the visible building that bordered on ruins used as a decayed mask above ground. It's a clever way to deter curious explorers with the mess of rusted pipes, broken tiles and shattered windows.

_Sneaky bastards. _Kaeha huffs in annoyance.

Eyes fluttering shut, the patient mutant double checks her mental photograph of the structure's layout. Before escaping to a safe house, Catherine had entrusted all the information she had been covertly obtaining into Kaeha's care. Building blueprints, personnel documents and even methods to destroy holding cells with energy blasts filled a thick folder in her neat script.

Kaeha is certain Catherine hacked into the database to obtain this degree of sensitive data. The deviant act endears the blonde even further to the energy user. Tapping into memories of the intel, concentration mars her previously blank face as Kaeha stretches energy sensors to where the lowest level is theoretically at. Yes, she feels the unique rhythm of energy flow only mutants have pulse under her fingertips.

A grimace contorts her face at the chorus of slow, drugged heartbeats. It reminds her far too much of where she was trapped in a mere month ago. For a moment, Kaeha indulges in longing for Catherine's steady presence which acted as salvation. The irrational urge is erased seconds later. Catherine was never meant to harm or destroy; the researcher is too kind to be so inhumane.

Then again, neither was Kaeha. She never once enjoyed the twisted expressions of agony or screams of pain that haunt her nights. Neither does she enjoy the unforgettable imprints of innocent skin twisted beneath her palms. However, the brunette has a goal to achieve and if that requires forgoing some of her ethical beliefs, so be it.

Inching forward along the thick branch, a bronzed hand stretches out causing the web of energy threads to twine into buzzing circuits. She sifts through every power outlet and electrical appliance until she discovers the most potent of them all; the generators. Forming a mental grasp around thrumming cores, outstretched palms quiver as though directly placed upon it.

She doesn't clench her fingers yet though. Instead, Kaeha waits. Hours of observation revealed a pattern whereby guards gather around the generators for a few minutes before exchanging places with a new batch. The brief lapse in security would be the best moment to strike despite the painfully small window of opportunity. Each impending seconds is timed to the beat of her heart.

_Three. Two. One!_

Fingers finally flex and generators welded at all four levels of the laboratory erupt into a cascade of flames and debris as they cave in or explode. The earth rumbles in protest, her tree shaking thrice yet holding firm from the waves of explosive aftershock. A smirk curves around her lips when the building starts to fall apart like a toppled house of cards.

Acting fast, she manipulates energy to curve and solidify into protective domes of electricity around the holding area. Rubble safely bounces off of the arched surface instead of hurting the trapped mutants. Kaeha fortifies and expands the dome, shifting her focus once the sharp spikes of panic from the children dim into hesitant hope.

Irate yells and pounding feet weave through the air as armed guards spill out the burning doorway in dark kevlar. Narrowed hazel irises dart across the grounds, each new counted head bringing a new crackling orb of energy to life. Invisible targets are painted on scrambling backs as Kaeha designates every sphere to a mercenary.

"Show time." The tired yet alert mutant murmurs.

Inhaling a deep breath, coiled muscles spring forward as she leaps off the branch and hurtles downwards at breakneck speed. Energy ripples across forest floors to cushion her landing and blare a warning to her surprised victims. It would only be fair, after all. Everything after she lands then dissolves into a blurred whirl of startled screams, stumbling feet and hissing sparks.

* * *

Stainless metal flex into discs then reshape into spheres while idly circling above Erik's palm. The metallokinetic exudes a vibe of nonchalance with his slouched back, bored expression and lax muscles. Of course, the charade ends at his eyes. Razor-sharp irises akin to a frozen lake rake across forest grounds in careful meticulous sweeps.

If any slight movement slipped by his keen gaze, Azazel perched above him compensated for it. The teleporter divided his gaze between surveying the area and keeping an eye on the dot of brown and black nestled atop a tree branch. He refused to allow Kaeha to leave his sight which was for the best. For three weeks Erik has tracked and chased after the elusive brunette.

Each time he finally gleaned her location, Azazel would teleport him over only for the duo to be greeted by burnt detritus and masses of unconscious militant. She was always long gone, the destruction left behind being the only trace of her presence. Regardless of endless frustration, Erik's interest was piqued after examining her handiwork. Her abilities and methodical manner of tearing through enemies is a desirable asset. However, approaching the energy user to discuss his ideals or _force_ his ideals down her throat was impossible; she moved too fast.

_I wonder if she's worth this much effort._ Erik ponders .

Before he could counter the irrational thought with rational ideas for her mutation, the ground trembles violently and splits apart beneath him. His footing slips but the agile man easily rights himself and secures a safe spot. Exchanging a look with Azazel, the teleporter nods and disappears from the sturdy branch to reappear on his left with a soft _crack_. Wrapping a scarlet hand around a pale bicep, Erik's stomach lurches as the ground disappears only to slam into the soles of his feet moments later.

Sulfur clings to his clothes while booted feet crunch against the floor littered with debris and branches. Scanning the area quickly, Erik grimaces when he realizes the duo landed right in the middle of Kaeha's carnage. Surprised yells cause Erik to glance over his shoulder at petrified men with loaded guns slipping out of frozen fingers.

Their root of fear seem to stem from the shook of Azazel's unusual appearance. Rolling his eyes in disdain, pale fingers clench into a fist which sends metal orbs piercing through unsuspecting thoracic cavities. As they crumple to the floor, Erik tilts his chin towards the oncoming regiment.

"Take care of them; I'll deal with her." He orders.

Azazel responds by dissolving into wisps of red smoke and flames before executing obstacles without complaint. Now that the hindrance is handled, Erik treads across the battlefield for the objective of his hunt. Fragments of metal orbit around him as a defensive shield. The metal bender is forced to crouch behind sturdy walls of steel to buffer explosions more times than he prefers to admit. It slows him down but he reaches the brunette soon enough.

His wrist snaps forward to plunge a metal rod into a creeping assailant. The gurgled groan of frothing blood alerts the slender woman to his presence. She swivels around after punching a guard's jaw, sending the mercenary sprawling head over heels through the air due to energy compacted into her tight fist. Erik ducks instinctively as the soldier sails over his head.

Springing back onto his feet, his field of vision narrows to twin pools of burning hazel. Fingers by his side tremble from the barely restrained energy flowing towards him in wary waves. Tempered curiosity shines in her eyes when they dart to metal fragments spinning around his rigid form. Instincts tell him Kaeha hasn't pegged him down as her enemy.

_Yet_. The calm, logical side of his mind points out.

Palms raise in the universal sign of "_I mean you no harm"_ as booted feet take a slow step forward. His foot freezes in mid-step when golden flecks within hazel depths flare into a glowing ocher. Ice tips down his spine and spreads through his veins at the familiar sensation of phantom fingers brushing the back of his head. It feels similar to the way Charles touches his mind for a telepathic conversation - _or_ when Charles briefly reads his thoughts.

"Sorry." Kaeha barks in apology.

Erik scarcely had time to hear the second syllable when energy ripples out in waves of flaming heat imbued with electricity. A large stream of crackling fire slams into the defensive wall he hastily wrought. The sheer force, even when powers tap into the Earth's magnetic fields, propels him backwards. Heels dig into the soft ground for additional support only to carve paths in the shape of his feet into soft soil as he vainly tries to retaliate.

Pressing calloused palms on the heated metallic surface, Erik focuses his abilities and _pushes_. Barriers previously formed to ensure his powers didn't spiral out of control lift, metal wall quivering before stilling altogether while his feet cease skidding backwards. Erik has found his anchor.

Bracing a broad shoulder against his shield, he grunts and takes one determined step forward. Success floods his system in a heady rush only to fizzle out seconds later. Kaeha reabsorbs the lethal whirlwind of energy which leaves Erik stumbling over thin air. A moment of mindless thought causes him to lower his shield at the exact moment her next attack launches.

Pale blue irises widen and his jaw drops in disbelief at the _log_ hurtling towards his face. Halfway through the premeditated flight, it disassembles into calculated shrapnel of burning wood aimed at unguarded niches. Muttering a curse, fingers splay out over the floor cluttered with metal before sharply flicking his wrist upwards. The motion would encase his defenseless form in a steel cocoon before flaming splinters could pierce into vulnerable skin.

Well, at least it was _supposed_ to. Glancing down in vague panic, Erik notices a thin web of glowing energy threads pinning metal shards to the ground. Doubling his efforts, the metallokinetic tries once more and fails to lift a single fragment. He resorts to scraps of alloy buried miles away in one last desperate attempt to minimize the painful damage. Pale lips twist into a foul scowl when they thrum with Kaeha's energy; Erik is defenseless.

"_Gottverdammt_." He swears before blistering pain rains down his skin.

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:**_

_**Admittedly, there's not much plot content here but at least they met! Sorta. Kinda. Met-ish. ...I believe I tried. *sighs***_

_**Anyway, based on my assignments and other irrelevant factors -mebeingacompletelazybutt- I'll probably have weekly updates. That seems like ample enough time for me to get my procrastinating bum into gear. xD**_

_**Thank you to those that actually follow this story. You have no idea how happy that made my day like asdfghjkl. *cries manly tears of joy***_


	3. It's Time

Erik is _annoyed_. Seething rage burns at the edges of his frayed control but he refuses to cave into it. Instead, the metallokinetic settles on being supremely vexed. Booted feet kick the ajar door open before striding into his dark room. A pale wrist flicks and the metal-hinged door slams shut with a loud _creak_. Rough fingers rip off dangling shreds of cotton desperately clinging to bloodied skin.

Lithe limbs crash into the solitary high-backed chair within the bare room. Stubborn lips withhold a grunt of discomfort formed as a result from the rough motion. Flaring pain and momentary stillness draws simmering anger back to the surface of his mind. Memories replay the scene from an hour ago in vivid splashes of color. Even now, Erik smells burning wood and tastes metallic blood.

_A log. It was a bloody _log_._ He hisses, indignant and demeaned.

In all honesty, Erik had expected electricity to sink into his veins in paralytic spikes or energy to bombard the grounds and possibly blow limbs off. He did _not_ expect a wooden _log_ to burst into flaming shards. Teeth bare in an angry scowl at the thought, pride still sore from the bitter sting of defeat. He hated losing fights without being able to throw _one_ punch.

A steel bottle of disinfectant floats towards him, tipping to douse battered skin in cleansing alcohol. Janos had already removed embedded splinters with careful patience and annoying grins. Open cuts howl in protest from the surge of pain but Erik pays no heed to his body's complaints. Sharp focus shifts onto the slender brunette who bested him instead.

Reclining into the chair, Erik examines her patterns gleaned from their brief fight and visits to her previous battles. Kaeha fought with a brute carelessness which fooled anyone to think she moved on instinct alone. Erik bears the injuries as proof of that underestimation. No, Kaeha plans and calculates every move to utilize every ounce of energy to her advantage. It all points to the polished skills of an assassin save for one paradox; she never killed.

Every victim with the misfortune of meeting her wrath survived every assault thrown their way. Kaeha is grudgingly intriguing; merciful despite callous and compassionate when she should be heartless. She's akin to a more predatory version of one noble Charles Xavier. Here is a pacifist with kind ideals yet capable of getting her hands dirty if that meant saving lives.

_Fascinating _and_ she outmaneuvered Azazel._ A part of his mind adds.

Now, _that_ was bewildering. Erik's concentration falters in confusion, metal needle momentarily pausing from stitching up his wounds. A solution still hasn't presented itself to this unique conundrum. He finds no feasible explanation to reason her accurate prediction of the teleporter's next appearance with so little facts on her abilities.

Adding to the pile of unanswered questions is the brief sensation of Kaeha grazing his head. Gathered information, meager as it was, proclaimed her to be an energy user and nothing more. Erik assumed her powers would be limited to electricity and bursts of energy. It was the card she loved to play after all. Upon further thought, Erik realizes it was most likely intentional to conceal the extent of her skills.

"I should stop belittling this one." He muses, lips twitching in obligatory respect.

Clicking heels beyond thin walls pull his attention towards the shut door. The needle weaving into his skin reaches the end of a long gash when Emma saunters in. Barely phased at the unannounced intrusion, Erik merely arches an eyebrow in question. He knows the telepath only deigns his 'peasant' room with her glittering presence when she has a message to convey.

"We pinpointed her next location. This time, we'll be there first." The blonde smirks.

Teeth flash in a razor-sharp smile that's all teeth and wicked intent. Waving a hand, metal threads snap before knotting to efficiently seal his wounds. Erik rises out of the chair in one fluid motion despite taut numbness tugging at barely healed muscles. It reminds him to be on guard this time; to _win_ during the next time he encounters Kaeha.

"Let's go." He tartly announces.

Emma's smile widens in response. Tendrils of gold strands slice through the air as she stalks down the corridor with Erik two steps ahead. The signature sound of her heels merge with Janos's quiet paces and Azazel's cracking sulfur when he materializes. Information pried from half conscious minds of fallen mercenaries fill their mind in a steady stream of information.

Metal orbs orbiting around Erik's shoulders catch and reflect sunlight as the formidable group step into the sunlight. Emma tethers their minds together with practiced ease, the slight chill overlaying twined thoughts a familiar sensation by now. Fingers link in unison as Azazel's consciousness dominates the mental stage. Through their joined bonds, Erik watches the teleporter hone in on their next location.

Before dissipating in a whirl of flames and ominous black wisps of smoke, Erik indulges in one private thought.

_This time, I'll be victorious. _He vows.

* * *

For the umpteenth time, Charles wonders if this is a good idea. It's been three days since Moira informed him of the Kaeha-Erik tussle, two since he boarded the jet with a persistent Hank in tow and merely one since they landed. The scholar has been roaming the vicinity after a quick stop to his cold, sterile quarters. It felt too alien and detached to reside in for too long.

However, now that he's away from boisterous students and flanked by stone-faced agents, Charles is beginning to doubt the sanity of his decision. It was an impulsive one, after all. One glance at photos of a bleeding Erik and angry slashes marring Azazel's skin propelled the telepath to pack his bags instantly. His sole delay was Hank doing his best to convince Charles to reconsider before forcibly tagging along. A long sigh escapes pursed lips.

_I'm far too weak._ He laments.

Attempts to isolate himself from Erik and his misfit band of comrades are useless. The slightest mention of harm is enough to up heave his life and run to their rescue without a second thought. It wasn't done out of a selfless sense of justice though. Charles does what he does because he _cares_ and caring is starting to gnaw on worn nerves.

The telepath is in the midst of debating a mental pity party when Moira rounds the corner. Irate contorts the delicate lines of her face; a clear sign that Moira is nervous. Launching himself forwards, Charles quickly catches up to the harried agent. A crumpled slip of paper is pressed into his palm without warning. After months of Moira abruptly shoving plates of food or cups of tea into his hands, Charles doesn't fumble.

Eyebrows knot in confusion when he finds a crudely drawn map after smoothing out the creases. Red dots and blue X's span across the paper, blue in one clustered corner while red dots spread out to flank the four corners of a gold star. Charles finally understands once he deciphers the topography; it's a basic map showing the locations of Charles, Kaeha and Erik.

The telepath and his small encampment are a few miles away from the clandestine facility. Kaeha is closer, skirting the edges of guard-infested grounds while bidding her time. Clearly, Erik is represented by creased red ink. Surprise widens bottle blue irises upon the realization that CIA agents gave Kaeha a wide berth.

He assumed they would have planted some men to monitor a possible loose canon. The lack of surveillance is a risky gesture of trust and one that seems to work. Charles has yet to hear Moira speak of any disturbances from the brunette. If the telepath has her figured right, he's certain Kaeha's concern lies with Erik than a group of harmless humans. It's a wise move.

"Erik hasn't approached her yet then. Any idea if she's noticed either of us?" Charles questions curiously.

"Oh, she's knows we're here." Moira mutters, voice twisted in humor and chagrin as she offers a telepathic invitation into her mind.

The intrigued telepath leaps at the opportunity and links their minds together. A mental visual is carefully unfolded for him to view. He recognizes the scrawny blond in the memory - Kyle, a new recruit obsessed with weird charms. Pointed features are laced in agony as he stares at his mangled lucky charm. Braided hair intended for good fortune is singed off in ugly patches.

Charles honestly can't help it; he bursts into raucous chortles which earns a sharp glare from Moira. He's barely rebuffed since she's desperately trying to stifle her own derisive laughter. The duo had spent hours terrifying Kyle with plans of tormenting said ridiculous toy. Kaeha must have felt the same and took it upon herself to cease Kyle's endless rants about it's charm.

_I like her._ Charles thinks wistfully.

Her sense of humor is prominent and Charles admires the humane way she handled the inhumane men and women she fought against. Tucking away a flicker of hope for a peaceful meeting, Charles returns to the present. Someone calls for Moira who sighs and gently squeezes his shoulder in apology before merging into a sea of mobilized agents.

Hank occupies her empty spot, displaying a watery smile filled with his own jittery nerves. The duo understand what's to happen next. The final plan of action has just been sanctioned and the flurry of motion is enough to spell out their impending situation. Unbelievably enough, it's time for their confrontation with Erik and Kaeha. A heavy lump settles in Charles's throat.

"Are you ready for this?" Hank quietly asks.

A smile curves his lips as Charles takes a second to appreciate the underlying question. _Do you want to sit out of this?_ Hank was always perceptive and preferred being the one firing the gun instead of Charles whose hands would shake. Blue fur appears across lithe forearms and his lean face, hazel irises flickering gold. Taking in a breath, Charles dips his head in a curt, resigned nod.

"I'm not, honestly, but I can't keep running away." He confesses softly.

Hank mirrors the somber gesture. They turn and slowly head for the revving Jeep filled with Moira and other agents calmly organizing their ranks into defensive positions. They clamber aboard and with a sharp bark of command, the camp that's partially dismantled slowly fades into the distance. Fingers clench as Charles gazes out the window in determination.

It's time.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:_**

**_I apologize if it's a tad draggy,but I'll try to up the pace a little with the next chapter. Thank you guys for reading! And to those that favorite, follow or even gave me a review which is pretty much the Holy Grail in my eyes; BLESS YOU. C': *flings cookies everywhere*_**


	4. A Good Man

Slender fingers caked in grime and dried blood clench which causes another embedded energy orb to erupt. The ground trembles as a gaping hole is punched through three floors of solid cement. Pinpricks of life energy slowly fade off of her radar, signifying her enemies have been halved in size. It's a brilliant success Kaeha has no time to revel in.

Bronzed fingers shake as they vaporize spokes of polymer hooked into the spine of a child no older than seven. She had barged in and knocked out each scientist with blasts of electricity, rudely interrupting the brutal experiment on the boy's healing factor. Anger and nausea bubbles in her throat. The child gazed upon her with bleak eyes, silently begging for death than to remain trapped. She remembers a time when her own reflection carried a similar expression.

_Focus_. Kaeha mutters, swiping at crimson beads dripping into her eye.

Not an ounce of energy could be wasted on healing. Kaeha was no fool; she had briefly picked up on the various life forms circling the compound. Instincts, which have yet to be proven wrong, screamed _imminent arrest_ if she didn't tread carefully. Jittery from the possibility of being caught, the energy user exhales in relief when the child is finally freed.

Nerves attempt to muddle her concentration but the brunette stubbornly ignores it. Teleportation is a tricky move to pull off and a personal pain to conduct. Kaeha never fully mastered the art of disassembling and reassembling a person's molecules over long distances. She's grateful all she has to manage this time is five floors down than across acres of land.

_You can do this_. She repeats firmly.

Reaching towards the energy threads binding his molecules together, she sears the unique pattern into memory. Kaeha hesitates for a brief moment before snapping each link apart. Dull green orbs widen, the boy startled by the unusual weightless sensation. Bronzed fingers curl around pale digits tightly when grubby feet start to disappear in minuscule flashes of light.

_Trust me._ Kaeha whispers into his mind, voice pitched low and gentle.

Struggling limbs cease their fight after a long beat. Grueling minutes later, her fingers close around empty air. A determined _Got him!_ echoes in her mind once the boy safely materializes in the arms of his friend. Rising to her feet, Kaeha tracks their escape to safety and waits ten full seconds before glancing into the hallway. Dark shadows dance across crumbling walls but, mercifully, conceal no enemies.

Kaeha has been careful to avoid physical contact with the mercenaries. Glowing liquid in transparent bullets caused nightmares to surface and frayed her nerves. Consumed by the desire to leave, she jogs down cracked pavement on the path to exit. Booted feet cease mid-step when her thermal radar suddenly blares alarms. Four new heat signatures have entered the facility and two are familiar from barely a week ago: the angry Sasquatch and the Crimson Flash.

"_Abso-fucking-lutely._" She growls, fingers angrily wringing an imaginary neck.

Curses morph into a sharp hiss when invisible fingers ram into her skull and scrape against her brain. Mental walls instantly slam into place as she clutches her head, smiling sadistically when the harsh recoil sends the intrusive telepath reeling. Kaeha knows of the utter agony that stems from being rudely evicted from a mind.

Regardless, anxiety doubles in her gut from the mind reader's attempt. She has to leave now, now, _now_. Knowing her hand has been forced, electricity thrums to life before whipping across the row of torsos to send the row of incoming guards into paralytic shock. Delicacy and stealth is no longer an option.

Tapping into her abilities, Kaeha wires the multiple bombs planted around building borders to the quartet's unique energy patterns. They detonate in a fiery cacophony within moments when Sasquatch's posse try to chase after her. Annoyingly enough, Kaeha is impressed. The telepath must be formidable to still detect her despite layers of mental barricades.

Skidding around a corner, her slender form hurtles down a dead end in the direction of the startled quartet. The incoming wall is barely an obstacle. Two coiling whips of flames lash against the brick and concrete barrier from her palms. It crumbles apart like frail rice paper around her, warm sunlight streaming through before encompassing her when she leaps outside.

Pliant grass bends under her scuffed boots as the teleporter vanishes in wisps of fire. Throwing her energy grid out, she easily senses the next gathering of his molecules on her right. Crimson Flash snaps into existence only to be met by a punch crackling with dangerous levels of voltage. He crumples to the floor, knocked out cold.

"Sorry." She mutters, wincing at the heavy _thump_ as he falls.

Kaeha is on her feet in seconds and halfway to safety when biting winds swirl around her. She yelps in surprise before the air body slams into her, lifting the energy user up in dizzying cartwheels. Shutting her eyes to prevent the view of a spinning world from addling her mind, a palm splays out and energy sensors spread out until she hones on the mutant's signature.

Flames erupt to life from her fingertips before slicing through the gaps of wind to crash into him. Charred silk flutters above her when the tornado abruptly ceases to exists and Kaeha gets intimate with the forest floor painfully. Biting back a string of profanities, energy bursts through her veins to propel the brunette back onto unsteady feet.

She skips over Pretty Boy whom is overwhelmed by the stinging pain of first degree burns yet relatively unharmed. Her wrist snaps to the side in a sharp flick. Relief floods her mind when the vehicle hidden behind shrubbery revs to life noisily. Kaeha sways, nearly trips over a rock, but rights herself and continues her mad dash. She's so _close_ to being home-free.

But, of course, she never makes it.

* * *

Pale fingers turn an unearthly white as Charles grips onto his wheelchair for dear life through the violent shower of mud and debris. Hank is a blue blur bulldozing his way through armed mercenaries, Moira a dark blur flanking his side in a flurry of guns and kicks. Their minds are shaken yet steady. Clearly, no one expected Kaeha to cause this magnitude of destruction

Fingers reach up to brush his temple in the reflexive gesture for accessing his mutation. Charles searches through the sea of chaotic minds for Kaeha in grim dedication. His lips twitch upwards briefly when he skims past Emma's aggravated mind and Erik's blank one. It appears Kaeha's endless bout of explosions is enough to challenge even the formidable duo. Focusing on the task at hand, he expands his telepathic reach only to blink in surprise.

Charles can't sense her.

Refusing to admit defeat, the scholar concentrates harder and does a more in-depth mental sweep. Disjointed thoughts of battle clamor his mind from the clashing agents. This time, Emma's mind is completely sealed off after sensing his intrusion. Regardless, the results are the same even after the second time: Kaeha is completely untraceable.

Teeth grit as Charles slams a frustrated fist down on his armrest. If he fails to find Kaeha, this carnage would be for _nothing_. Determination fueling his veins, Charles searches for her once, twice, thrice more. Finally, on his fourth attempt, he catches a glimpse of her blazing mind before it fades into a blank abyss once more. The discovery stuns the telepath until he remembers experiencing something similar on the beach in Cuba.

_Of _course_, she's shutting me out._ Charles realizes, elation sparking through his veins at the exhilarating thrill of a challenge.

Ignoring rapid thoughts of curiosity, Charles tries to get a proper grip on her mind to initiate a telepathic conversation. Her mind flickers into existence every so often during her bouts with Azazel and Janos. However, it's not enough. Accessing her mind is quickly proving to be a dead end even with the miniscule cracks in her defense. Charles shifts to a different approach.

Hoping for the best, he latches onto a tiny fracture and forms a projection of himself that coalesces a few feet in front of Kaeha. The teetering brunette skids to an abrupt halt, bright flames and electricity sparking to life in her palms defensively. Charles remains absolutely still and merely implores her to be calm with an openly pleading gaze. She reminds him of a cornered Erik or Alex; sudden movements would do more damage than good.

Miraculously, it works when whizzing sparks slowly dissipate. Hazel irises glance over a bleeding shoulder in wary concern. When Kaeha graces Charles with the full attention of her strong yet groggy gaze, he knows he only has seconds before she escapes. Mental walls continue to hiss hostility but when she nods for him to speak, he pounces on the chance.

"My names is Charles Xavier. I'm a mutant - a telepath, to be exact." He calmly explains.

Curiosity and wonderment fills his being when golden flecks embedded in hazel pools briefly glimmer. Charles had noticed the darting flash of amber when Kaeha activated her mutation. This slow simmer of molten ocher feels completely different in comparison to prior dazzling gold. Questions clutter his mind and fill his throat but he keeps a firm leash on burning interest.

"You don't fight." Kaeha declares in a voice that left no room for argument.

"Not unless I absolutely have to, yes." Charles replies, slow and hesitant and completely bewildered.

Nights had been spent calculating the multitude of scenarios that could possibly occur when he finally spoke to her. This odd and almost casual flow of conversation is something he never even considered. When lips curve into an apologetic smile and hazel orbs soften in wistful longing, the telepath is left thoroughly flummoxed.

"You're a good man, Charles, but I can't stay." Kaeha confesses, eyes shifting over her shoulder as she delivers her responze.

Charles, seated in his wheelchair miles away from the havoc of rubble and keeling men, gapes when her keen gaze settles on his hidden form. Chapped lips part to utter a question only to let out a sharp exhale of alarm. The duo were so absorbed in their dance between enemy and ally that they failed to notice the limping guard and his armed gun until it was too late.

A loud shot ripples through the air, Kaeha's arm now doused in luminescent green. Color drains from her face as she retaliates by firing an orb of untempered energy. The wounded mercenary sails through the air only to crash into a tree. Charles is about to check on him when a string of French curses abruptly flood his mind in Kaeha's soprano tones.

Her mental barriers are gone.

Charles quickly reaches out to Kaeha's mind to warn her only to gasp and howl in agony when he experiences the lethal stab of pain with her. Hazel irises roll back and booted feet stumble a step forward before the energy mutant falls like a marionette with its strings rudely cut. Annoyance and irk prickles across his skin as Charles stubbornly wheels himself towards her crumpled form. Only one person could have executed that move without causing brain damage.

_Emma._

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:**  
_

_**I know I'm late and I sincerely apologize for that. QwQ**_

_**Nonetheless, here we are! Charles has finally met Kaeha and now the hissy fit of righteous justice shall commence~ I admit, there's not much interaction between Kaeha and Erik but give it time. Erik isn't easy after all. *grins like a loon***_


	5. Your Offer?

Wheels catch on cracked ground and jagged rocks which jostles Charles uncomfortably but he stubbornly pushes forward. Incensed thoughts jumble his mind in an irked haze as he watches Erik stalk towards the fallen Kaeha. It briefly pauses when Hank reaches out for his mind; emptying it to better establish their telepathic bond.

_Charles, I don't like this. _He mutters distractedly.

His concern was valid. After all, Charles was heading straight for the metal bender by himself. The telepath assures Hank that he's completely sound of mind yet maintains the connection. If Charles felt the slightest hint of danger, Hank would sense it too. Distant approval thrums through their mental link. His gaze hones on Erik when he crouches by the brunette's side. He's alone after dispatching Emma to get Janos and retrieve Azazel together.

Erik is far too preoccupied with glaring at bronzed skin smeared in green liquid to acknowledge Charles. The telepath is no fool though. He knows Emma would have informed Erik about his presence. Plus, his wheelchair composed of metal is capable of being sensed by Erik from miles away. Clearly, he wasn't too concerned about it.

His nonchalance both irked Charles at the blatant disregard and warmed a small piece of his soul at the blatant trust.

"Erik, stop." Charles calmly orders.

Inching fingers halt a hair's breadth away from Kaeha's bruised arm. Lips exhale an aggravated sigh before Erik glances up and into twin pools of calm cerulean. Bent limbs straighten to his full, intimidating height; piercing gaze flickering warily between his prey and incoming obstacle. Arms cross over his broad chest in a defensive position Charles easily recognizes.

"_Go home_, Charles." Erik requests in a tired voice.

"Not without her." Charles stonily replies.

Erik's face remains expressionless but Charles knows better. His jaw tightens subtly and a vein starts to tick at the base of his jaw. Twin orbs of metal orbit around his form a fraction faster. To the person Erik calls a friend, his agitation is as clear as day.

"What do you want with her?" Erik questions, gaze unwavering and mildly challenging.

"To help her." He replies curtly.

The taller of the duo doesn't respond and merely casts a glance over Charles's shoulder. The telepath has no need to mirror the action. An influx of minds projecting thoughts of warmth and protection appear and flank his sides in a loose semi-circle. His companions have settled their own battles.

The soft _click_ of Moira's gun echoes through the air as she appears on Charles's right. Hank is a mass of lethal muscles coiled to spring into action by his left. The telepath squeezes his arm quietly to silence the threatening growls.

"Ceramic bullets; well done." Erik wryly congratulates.

Moira ignores his compliment, maintaining her steady posture with the barrel locked on his head. The other loaded arms swivel to the side when Emma and a limping Janos return with an unconscious Azazel braced between them. Charles can feel the hum of a private telepathic conversation between the blonde telepath and Erik. The verdict is clear when Erik's thin lips form a taut line.

Escape was impossible with Azazel out of the picture and the vast amount of agents outnumbered the solitary quartet. Charles's abilities had also developed enough to, at the very least, be on equal standing with Emma. Both sides were equally matched. Fingers tap against his temple as Charles forms a mental bond with Erik.

_Your move. Please, my friend, choose wisely_. Charles quietly murmurs.

The connection breaks mere seconds later, hand sliding back on his arm rest, as they stare each other off silently. A charged tension fuels the scene as mistrust and suspicion permeates the air. Finally, Erik's head dips into a sharp nod and rotating metal orbs sink into linen pockets. Emma huffs delicately behind him in distaste.

"Your proposition, old friend?" Erik inquires with bright, sharp eyes.

Charles doesn't reply instantly. He recognizes the predatory glimmer in the taller man's gaze. If Erik doesn't like what he hears next, he would happily take his chances at a risky escape than oblige the telepath.

Charles catches Moira's gaze and they briefly converse mentally before she scowls in disapproval. Regardless, the cocked gun is hesitantly tucked back into her holster, others following suit at the authorial wave of her hand.

"Kaeha is injured and of no use to you in this state nor do you have the means to heal her back to full health. However, _we_ do. My offer is this: move to my estate temporarily and we shall watch over her recovery together. Once she is awake, the decision is hers and _hers_ alone." Charles declares.

For a frightening pause, Erik says nothing. He exchanges a glance among his companions before evaluating his scuffed shoes instead. Finally, he looks up and smirks dangerously in a flash of sharp teeth.

"So be it."

* * *

Kaeha knows she's dreaming. After all, there is no other possibility of being in this particular room once more. She stares up at the high ceilings in stark white from her spot of lying flat on the floor. Yes, the splotch of worn red paint still clings to a dark corner. She should have never been introduced to arts and craft. Kaeha was, and still is, terrible at it. Exhaling noisily, arms brace against the cold paneled floors as she slowly sits up.

She examines her surroundings in nostalgia. Mismatched walls of wallpaper are haphazardly peppered with nails where picture frames proudly hang. Soft lighting accompanies the lit fireplace in dousing the room with a gentle orange glow. Dark mahogany furniture compliment the plush upholstery. The distinct scent of sage and mint and _home_ coats the air pleasantly.

"Do you intend to sit there all day?" An amused voice remarks.

Her gaze snaps to the dark red couch that was previously unoccupied. A lone figure lies nestled upon it, legs drawn up and hands elegantly clasped in her lap. Pale lips quirk up in a disarming smile that just _glowed_. It was one that the energy used used to see daily. Kaeha comically evaluates her chilly spot before grinning right back.

"It's fairly comfortable. Lovely view too." She mutters airily even as she approaches the couch.

Her companion hums indulgently as Kaeha sinks into the sea of soft cushions. A pale hand encases hers, a sharp contrast against her sun-tanned skin, in a gentle squeeze. The gesture is familiar and comforting yet completely out-of-place. She doesn't turn away from it though. Instead, she returns the gesture with her own light addition of pressure from calloused fingers.

"You aren't getting enough sleep." The slender woman chides affectionately.

Kaeha smiles, one of her true ones which rarely see the light of day. The stability of her dream realm occasionally flickers out of focus. Flashes of memories from a lifetime ago jar her concentration. Burning embers, wailing cries and an endless chase towards a disappearing vehicle barrage her mind. Foreign voices calling her name distract her every so often. Shaking her head, she focuses back on the curled brunette.

"I can't. I have goals to achieve and people to find." Kaeha replies in a similar tone.

"Can you forgive?" Her companion questions, curious and pleading at the same time.

"Perhaps. There are times when I can and times where I don't wish to." She honestly answers.

Slender, pianist fingers curl around her clenched fist tightly. Kaeha didn't realize her hand was shaking. The tiny tremors slowly cease and her hand is reluctantly released. It's surprisingly cold without the gentle warmth wrapped around her calloused palm. Her companion tilts her head, a curtain of waist-long chestnut hair spilling over her shoulder, when she gazes at the window. The stare is bittersweet yet hopeful which only confuses her.

"You always were a stubborn one. I hope to see you soon." The elder woman wistfully confesses.

"Don't hope; _expect_ it. We shall meet soon enough." Kaeha assures in complete confidence.

Again, that radiant smile flashes as delicate fingers trace the edges of her jaw. Her companion says nothing in response; only rising to her feet after the tender gesture. She ambles towards the door which magically swings open. Alarm and panic start to bubble in her veins when the distinct scent of burning kerosene fills the air. Kaeha whips back in fear only to feel the heat of roaring flames.

The quaint little house is set aflame, destined to burn to the ground just like it did a long time ago. Bile and desperation flare up in her throat as she whips back around to face the willowy woman. It's too late for the ravenous flames have nearly reached her thin frame rooted at the threshold.

"Soon. That would be lovely indeed." The woman whispers.

"Wait!" Kaeha yells, hand splayed out in a vain attempt to save her.

Licking fires swirl around the woman and encompasses her fully before flesh and fabric erupt into a burst of embers and ashes. Flames explode behind her which throws Kaeha forward as her imaginary realm dissolves. The momentum carries forward as hazel irises snap open and Kaeha lurches forward with a breathless scream.

Her mind is frazzled and her heart throbs painfully against her chest. She realizes with a start that the strangled cry of anguish originates from her throat. Yet, Kaeha can't make herself stop. Suddenly, a firm hand encloses around her flailing wrist as the other grabs her quivering shoulder firmly.

In an instant, Kaeha is roughly jostled. The world spins bleakly but the heart wrenching dream slowly fades as her vision clears. Kaeha finds herself gazing into two clear pools of icy blue that emit annoyance and mild concern.

They were familiar; achingly familiar, in fact. Her own eyes widen when the memory clicks as she blurts the first word her mind conjures in a haze of confusion and watered down panic.

"_Sasquatch_?" Kaeha sputters.

* * *

_**Mini Rant of Doom:**_

_**Dun dun duuunnnnn! FINALLY I get to start writing scenes where Erik and Kaeha aren't trying to massacre each other!*squeals deliriously***_

_**So, Charles has preyed on Erik's weakness towards his puppy dog eyes to get his way and Kaeha has a peculiar dream and an even more peculiar (and ridiculously attractive) wake up call. Next up, the ridiculous Awkward Dances shall begin! C:**_

_**By the way, do drop me a review if you have the time to spare. It would mean the world to me to hear a smidge of feedback though I will continue writing regardless. Perhaps as a reward for writing this quicker than usual? :3  
**_


	6. Her Four Options

For a lengthy pause, Erik doesn't utter a word. Of course, he's well versed in many areas and has heard ramblings of the creature Kaeha named. However, the simple fact that she equated the fictional monster with him is _aggravating_. Teeth grind as he roughly releases her shoulder and wrist.

Sadistic triumph fills his veins when she keels over sideways with a startled yelp. The mutant was unaware that her right arm is wrapped in a sling. Before she reorients herself, Erik shoves a glass of water into her free hand. Unfortunately, Kaeha fumbles but doesn't spill it all over herself.

Tall limbs gracefully fold as Erik occupies the lone chair by the foot of her bed. He stares Kaeha down in disdain while she drinks in careful, measured sips. Her gaze roams across the vast room in a clinical assessment for possible escape maneuvers. It's clear the duo carry no trust for each other.

_Charles, she's awake._ Erik informs, projecting his thoughts outwards.

Kaeha glances up when he does and Erik's suspicions rise. Slender fingers steeple together as he quietly regards her. He knows she's not a telepath but that's something he's swiftly starting to doubt. His gaze never wavers even when Hank barges into the room in a cluttered mess. Kaeha, however, jumps in a clumsy jerk of stiff limbs. Hank instantly slows down under her razor sharp gaze and offers a watery smile.

"I'm Hank: resident technician and medic guy." He awkwardly introduces himself.

"Kaeha: current captive and, apparently, your patient." She replies wryly.

_She noticed._ Erik notes grudgingly.

Thin bands of metal that appear deceptively fragile encircle her wrists. They dangle loosely but he could easily change that after spending hours acclimating the loops of metal to his will. Kaeha must have sensed his energy coiled within the metallic bands. She couldn't escape him this time. It's with this string of calculative thoughts occupying his mind when Charles enters, flashing a reproachful gaze which Erik easily brushes off.

"Good morning, Miss Malik. How are you feeling?" Charles inquires.

The warmth and sincerity curling around his jovial syllables relaxes the hostile duo. Erik's sharp gaze softens and Kaeha's tense shoulders steadily drop. Acknowledging his question, Kaeha does a quick sweep across her form and flexes her limbs methodically as Hank nods and quietly assists the process.

"Technically, nothing seems physically wrong but something isn't quite right." She trails off in confusion.

"Hank?" Charles questions as his gaze shifts to the doctor for his opinion.

"Physical examinations don't raise any alarms. Diagnostics are clean as well. Besides the bruising on her right arm and the drugs still weakening her system, she's healthy." Hank concludes.

"Use your mutation." Erik drawls when a thought clicks in his mind.

Once more, his field of vision narrows into a whirlwind of hazel and gold when Kaeha snaps her gaze on him. She stares with masked apprehension before complying, raising a hand and clenching her fingers sharply. Even without telepathy or empathy Erik senses her intense concentration. Besides, he recognizes the gesture. It was the same one she used to set that infernal slab of wood on fire.

However, nothing happens.

An annoyed sigh escapes his lips when his theory is proven right. He had visited the facility that trapped her before. Closer inspection and an expert examination of the drugs showed it was tailored made to dampen Kaeha's mutation. Erik always knew this was bound to happen.

Laced fingertips brush his chin as he watches Kaeha try again and again. Whitened knuckles quiver from the effort only to produce a pathetic fizzle of sparks. He waits for the anger and frustration to warp her rigid posture. Erik had felt the same when he failed to move that satellite mere months ago.

Instead, Kaeha merely frowns at her palm before raising her frustrated gaze towards Hank. He straightens from the weight of her attention and nods encouragingly for her to speak.

"How long would it take to completely wear off?" She asks in tired curiosity.

"About three weeks; possibly even a month. I'm sorry but it was much more potent this time." Hank replies wistfully.

This time, Erik catches the flicker of frustration that twists her lips into a brief scowl. His head tilts in a slight nod of approval that goes unnoticed. Kaeha valued her power to feel unsettled by the loss of it. It was another thread that separated her from Charles and connected her to Erik instead. He feels unusually pleased at the notion.

"What's _your_ agenda then, Sasquatch?" She suddenly questions.

Teeth gnash as Erik's jaw tightens, visibly recoiling from the casual use of the loathsome name. He doesn't feel pleased any more.

* * *

Cerulean irises dart warily between an alert Kaeha and a fuming Erik. Hank has a comforting hand on his shoulder which trembles every so often. Charles understands and shakes as well in carefully concealed mirth. If Kaeha wasn't such a necessary asset, Erik would have shattered the arteries pumping around her slender wrists. After all, it wasn't often that his tough, intimidating self was reduced to a fictional entity with giant tufts of fur.

A sharp glare from the metal bender warns the telepath that he's walking on thin ice. Stifling another round of chuckles, Charles sobers up and paints on a solemn face. Lips twitch when Erik exercises his carefully honed restraint and relaxes into the metal chair that thrummed in indignation.

"To use you. Your information on the facilities is more in-depth and your methods are efficient." He bluntly states.

The breath Charles inhaled quickly extinguishes as he openly gapes at the predatory man in disbelief. Erik had been completely honest. Charles had months to familiarize himself to the subtle signals Erik made when concealing an ulterior motive or lie. It ranged from absent, rhythmic taps upon his knee to a rotation of his wrist in a faux stretch. Regardless, when he spoke to Kaeha, none of those cues emerged.

_Either he's changed or he knows better than to lie. _He muses.

Charles is certain its the latter. Pale fingers swipe across his lips to rid an amused smirk, sitting up straighter when Kaeha glances over. He waits for a question and receives a quiet smile instead. Even without reading her mind, he instinctively knows Kaeha is aware of his intentions. He mirrors her expression and patiently waits.

* * *

Thoughts clutter her mind once mental walls are raised as Kaeha carefully weighs her options. She could leave. Charles wouldn't stop her and Sasquatch would only pursue her once the telepath is blissfully oblivious. By then, she can resume their little dance and slip right past his fingertips. However, this was an opportunity she couldn't waste. Kaeha has limitations on her mutation and she's slowly running out of steam.

The second option would be to stay with Charles. She had sensed the mingling teens and scampering children blasting hyperactive waves of energy. It took her a while but she figured this was a school of sorts. Charles would somehow find her a place in it; Kaeha knows it in her bones. It would be safe and secure and gratifying in a way. This was the possible life she sacrificed; a sacrifice Kaeha was determined not to waste.

Escaping is out of the question. Sasquatch had cautiously shifted closer to Charles and glared ominously in warning at her when he entered. One slight move, even if it was to harmlessly take him out, would result in pain at the least and death at the most. She approves of the notion wholeheartedly. Charles is practically made of rainbows and sunshine after all.

Kaeha wasn't even going to consider going with Sasquatch without a struggle. He reminded her too much of the persona she immerses in when infiltrating those wretched facilities: cold, brutal, clinical and efficient. Caring about Charles showed the spark of a conscience and good will. However, that wasn't enough for her to entrust her life to him.

Raising her gaze from the expertly formed sling encasing her smarting arm, she fixes her gaze on the telepath. Bottle blue irises gaze back in calm anticipation for her request. She nods mechanically, needing an affirmation of his intentions. Charles is quick to understand the nonverbal signal.

"You can stay for as long as you wish; at the least, long enough for a full recovery. After that is entirely your call." He assures, hand twitching as though he wanted to give hers a tight squeeze.

"And you intend to continue pursuing this warped organization, yes?" She asks, directing her question to the reclining man at the end of her bed.

"Yes and preferably with your help. After a full recovery, of course." Sasquatch hesitantly replies.

Kaeha bites back a grin as Charles withdraws his stern glare. Her health and well-being was clearly an afterthought for the taller man. Focusing back on the present, her choice is blatantly obvious. Kaeha will stay, recover completely, assist this dysfunctional group and finally reach the finishing line of her struggle. Silencing the manic concerns for wasting time or failure with a noisy exhale, she faces the waiting trio with her lips curving into a small smile.

"I'll stay."

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:_**

**_Perhaps it's a tad slow and filler-ish but at least Hank appeared for a bit! :D Now that the setting is set, the plot can slowly progress. *cackles evilly*_**

**_Again, to all you wonderful souls that Review and Favorite and Follow, thank you! You lot are the reason why I'm so eager to write and actually finish this. Thanks again everyone! C':_**


	7. Wandering Ruminations

Gravel crunches softly beneath unsteady feet as Kaeha wobbles before crumpling to her knees. Tanned fingers curl around a loose pebble to savagely fling it across manicured lawns. Admittedly, attempting a jog merely three days after landing herself in a medical ward _is_ overkill. The bit of logic didn't ease the loathing she felt about her current condition though.

She had spent months perfecting the art of sailing through treacherous forests and taking down armadas of mercenaries. Now, to be reduced to this helpless state, is _incredibly_ frustrating. Kaeha sucks in a deep, faltering breath before forcing herself upright. Quivering knees ache in protest yet remain stable. Good. Another clumsy tumble onto pristine cobblestone paths would result in uncouth swears and a fuming mutant.

"Perhaps you should refrain from any form of decorating." A familiar voice wryly advices.

"Afraid I'll outdo you, Xavier?" Kaeha chirps back sarcastically.

Charles laughs carelessly as he rolls to a stop beside her, palm grazing her back to steady her fragile balance. She nods silently in appreciation. He has an uncanny ability to detect and cater to unspoken needs even without telepathy. Surrendering the willful idea of exercise, Kaeha trails beside Charles as they head for the Institute. Teeth sink into her lip to bite back a grin when Charles huffs and looks pointedly at the pebble marring a sea of green.

Being with Charles is as easy as breathing. They harmonized almost eerily well and he kept Kaeha company during those few days Hank forced her to rest. The medic was a little awkward but he always smiled proudly each time she caught and laughed over muttered sarcastic quips. Azazel rarely interacted with her. The rare moments where they did were brief yet somewhat friendly.

The teleporter harbored no ill feelings towards her which was Kaeha's sole concern. Janos mirrored Azazel's approach which was easy to handle. Emma, thankfully, kept her patronizing visits short and swift. Kaeha wasn't overly fond of her silky syllables glossed over in honey and sugar. They always seemed to conceal an ulterior motive which Kaeha sensed but couldn't decipher.

At the other end of the spectrum is Erik - she _finally_ learned his name though she was loath to use it. The sharp discomfort from constant honesty slowly faded from his voice. There were even times he seemed oddly at ease around her. Its bizarre and bipolar and bewildering to the energy user.

"Any news?" She questions, shaking her head free of wandering thoughts.

Despite her gaze fixed on looming wrought iron gates, Kaeha catches his head shaking in a negative. Charles brushes his fingertips over her knuckles, eliciting a small smile. Azazel had awakened only two days ago before immediately sent off with Janos and Emma to follow a possible lead. The short span of time would hardly warrant results so soon but a girl can dream.

Fingers reach out towards heavy oak doors only for it to magically swing open. Instincts force her to take a step back and shield Charles. Erik, hand still on the knob, flashes a smile only to quickly retract it. It must have been an impulsive gesture. The telepath by her side grins and rolls inside first.

Kaeha barely notices as Erik glances over her form. The scrutiny made her stiffen. His sharp gaze lingers on the scratches littering her arms and the scuffs on her knees. This time, his condescending smirk is deliberate as he leans against the door.

"I assume you had a nice run?" He questions innocently.

Kaeha is quick to detect the underlying jibe. Fury thunders across her face as she steps closer, minimizing the space between them as lips part to fire a cutting remark. Erik's smirk widens at her reaction only to dissipate the next second. As if a switch was flicked, the angry lines on her face fade into a serene expression.

Her unnaturally broad smile catches him off guard which allows her arm to shoot out and land on its intended target: Erik's perfectly groomed hair. Messing it up roughly, Kaeha beams at the now untamed shrub atop his head.

"Oh yes, it was _fantastic_." She proudly states, quickly slipping away to avoid his wrath.

Muffled chuckles echo from the corner Charles took as Kaeha hustles her way over. Erik is probably too shocked to retaliate just yet. Peeking over her shoulder as she rounds the bend in the hallway, she tries to steal a quick glance. Charles reflexively reaches out to steady her wheeling form as always.

Erik stands there, paralyzed in shock as dark eyelashes blink rapidly. His energy fluctuates from the spike of emotions before lips twitch up briefly. Fingers reach up to try and tame the chestnut havoc as he exits the door for his own run.

In that brief moment of time, Kaeha caught a glimpse of Erik's first genuine smile.

* * *

Intelligent blue eyes narrow and eyebrows knot as Hank catalogs every movement the brunette makes. It's been five days since Kaeha woke and all she can conjure are dying sparks. At least her lethargy has mildly decreased. She managed to make an entire lap around the Institute's grounds this morning.

Hank had tagged along to keep an eye on her and upon her request. He's almost certain it's to prevent Erik from joining her like the previous - disastrous - time. They had returned in the picture of composed apathy. Hank, however, noticed the vein beneath Erik's jaw throbbing and the hard line carved across Kaeha's shoulders.

They were both angry and refused to show it as they stiffly parted ways. Hank shakes his head in amusement, concealing his mirth behind a clipboard.

_It's akin to two same elements that resonate and yet extinguish in each others presence._ Hank muses.

He clears his head only to jump at the small smile Kaeha flashed. It was the same, secretive grin each time she overheard his mutterings. This time though, he hadn't said it aloud verbally. Spectacles slip down the bridge of his nose as Hank openly gapes at her. It takes a few attempts to get his voice out.

"How did you do that? You aren't a telepath, are you?" He blurts incredulously.

His outburst catches both Charles's and Erik's attention. The telepath had escorted her to the medical ward after her morning run as per their unspoken routine. Erik, however, stopped by unexpectedly to look over her medical reports with a sharp gaze. Now, their focus is on Kaeha and Hank. They both caught the flash of simmering ocher and intelligently connected the dots.

"Not in the conventional sense. Thoughts are nothing more than electrical signals which my mutation can detect. All it takes is deciphering each pattern to read a thought and inputting a particular pattern to create a thought." Kaeha explains.

"B-But that means you know the entire English language in nerve impulse patterns." Hank splutters in awe and disbelief.

"Including English, three languages actually. I had the time and an excellent teacher." She corrects, a pained grimace flickering across her face at the end.

The meaning of that expression was lost on Hank and Charles. Erik clearly knew better when he placed a restraining hand on Charles's shoulder. The surge of curiosity and admiration in his raised shoulders slowly fade. Hank recognized that gesture easily: _say nothing or you shall regret it._ Clearing his throat, fingers push his spectacles back into place as Hank allows a genuine, comforting smile.

He hesitantly reaches out to pat her knee to signify the end of the medical checkup as per their routine. Kaeha smiles wanly in reply. For a brief second, all is right in the world again. Charles quickly rolls forward while brandishing a leather bound novel in hand. At the sight, the hollow expression carved into her face morphs into her usual attentive demanor.

The duo discovered their passion for classic literature a few days ago and chattered away as Hank fussed with drawing blood and checking heart rates. This must be the prized first edition that Charles had boasted about the other afternoon. Chuckling quietly, Hank files her updated physical report and eyes his microscope in the corner. He had extracted fragments of the enhanced drug from the vials of her blood. An antidote was harder to make than he expected.

The complexity was on a whole other level in comparison to the previous samples Moira shared with him. Unease had settled in his gut like lead at the discovery he made hours ago: the drugs were catered specifically for Kaeha alone. Whoever invented it needed at least _years_ of knowledge about her system and mutation to execute it so flawlessly. The only possibility would be someone she was in close contact with from infancy betrayed her.

Hank hated the thought. He liked Kaeha and the effortless way she integrated herself into their bizarre family. Even the kids adored her; especially Alex that found a piece of himself mirrored in her.

_Anyone that threatens our family will not be tolerated._ Hank vows solemnly.

The combination of Erik's and Moira's efforts would eventually locate the masterminds behind this cruel organization. At that time, Hank was sure even Charles would display a merciless side. Shaking his head clear of morbid thoughts, pale lips part to ask if everyone would like to have lunch.

The good doctor starts in surprise when he notices Erik reclining against the doorway. The metal bender usually left by now. Pools of ice immersed in unreadable emotions are riveted upon Charles and Kaeha. Erik lingers for a second longer before darting out the room in stiff paces. Hank managed to catch a glimpse of his gaze though.

His eyes were filled with bittersweet envy and the same aching hollowness Kaeha had.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:  
_**

**_ I apologize greatly for the uber long delay. The universe suddenly handed me an active social life and I clearly didn't know how to manage it all._**

**_Anyway, there's finally a piece of Erik/Kaeha interaction! They clearly don't trust each other - except on their love for Charles, cause, c'mon, Charles \- and thus invading personal space boundaries is the best way to annoy each other. *cackles evilly*  
_**

**_Now I've addressed the question of Kaeha's quirky use of her mutation and created tons more questions to be answered. I'm sorry that I'm not sorry. *smirks*  
_**


	8. Tea Fixes Everything

Charles reclines into his comfortable chair as he quietly observes his milling students. The steadily growing group is occupying the lawns as Alex demonstrates a few combative maneuvers. Inevitable chuckles escape his lips when clumsy ones kick their classmates instead of the target. The self-declared teacher gruffly admonishes them but Charles manages to make out the grin tugging at his lips.

Auburn hair burns a brilliant copper in the sunlight when Kaeha leaves her shady spot beneath a tree. She gently adjusts incorrect stances and curls novice fingers into proper fists. Being cooped up in his study, Charles can't hear the whispered advice she offers. He knows whatever she said worked though when the ten year old lands a solid punch on the target. She nods proudly in approval.

_She should teach._ Charles smiles as Alex and Kaeha monitor and assist wayward students.

"She's fairly pleasant to have around." A deep, baritone voice comments absently.

The unconscious beam Charles had on display stiffens before it slowly slips away. He didn't notice Erik entering his study. Refusing to offer a verbal answer, the telepath merely dips his head into a curt nod. A bone weary sigh echoes after his response as Erik remains stationary by the looming threshold.

The bitterness Charles felt at all Erik had taken and the yearning for his company results in his usual emotional turmoil. It wasn't like before. The duo always had different ideals yet somehow figured out a way to march along the same path. Now, their tune is no longer synchronized and Charles is incapable of fixing it.

Ever since that day on the beach with Shaw, he swore he would never touch Erik's mind again. At this moment though, he didn't need to. Burning fragments of Erik's thoughts brush against the edges of his consciousness. Charles can sense sorrow, self-loathing and that small flicker of warmth that remained from the embers of their friendship. The telepath stifles derisive laughter. Erik is actually _sorry_.

Fingers tense and curl around the padded armrests when the hurricane of Erik's jumbled thoughts steadily increases. Charles winces and instinctively sends Hank a telepathic message for tea. A pounding headache is slowly creeping in from his temples. Finally, Erik ceases his internal storm and hesitantly sets foot into the brightly lit room. His next step is more reassured and his voice is quiet yet soothing.

"Charles, please, I-" He begins only to abruptly stop when Charles swivels around to face him.

It wasn't simmering rage or hollow bitterness that extinguished the words Erik formed behind pale lips. Cerulean pools were achingly tired and defeated as they gazed upon the taller man. Never once did Charles look at him with a look akin to one you give a monster. This one is no exception; it's thoughtful and merely seeing but Erik deciphers the sadness lurking beneath.

Words tangle into a guilty knot in his throat as Charles wheels forward in the direction of the door. His pace fractionally slows when he reaches the spot Erik is rooted to.

"Consider your next few words carefully." He quietly warns.

Erik swallows the heavy lump and remains in blistering silence as the telepath brushes by his arm on the way out. Charles senses the air shift when the solemn man turns as though to stop him. However, he leaves the room unhindered save for the smothering gaze burning against his scalp. The telepath doesn't spare a backwards glance which probably wounded them both equally.

_It's too soon._ Charles wistfully sighs to himself.

Friendship is a distant dream for the genetics scholar. Deep within his heart, lingering fragments of resentment for his now useless legs fester every time he looks at Erik. No, Charles refused to offer his hand to the lost man when the possibility of hurting Erik further exists.

As for the electromagnetic user, Charles knows an apology now would originate from his guilt. Erik assumed his surreptitious glances of despair at Charles's immobile limbs went unnoticed; clearly, he was wrong. Thus, the telepath would wait until Erik closes the distance between them simply because he _wants_ to instead out of a sense of obligation.

_Knowing that man and his one track mind, that could take a while._ He frowns at the floor.

If it weren't for the gentle waves of serenity suddenly emerging in his mind, Charles would have plowed right into Kaeha. He manages to stop just millimeters away and smiles up at her sheepishly as she chuckles. Her right hand has a saucer occupied with a steaming teacup braced upon her open palm. A genuine smile works across his face at the sight of his precious tea.

Muscles tense as the smile morphs into a flinching grimace when he hears Erik's brisk footsteps. Charles feels Kaeha's intent gaze rest on his taut shoulders before shifting to the disappearing figure down the opposite end of the hallway then back again. The sigh she releases is heavy and laced with unreadable emotions.

"Tea?" She merely offers in a neutral voice.

"Gladly." Charles gratefully murmurs.

The harsh pounding in his head has increased by tenfold. The question now is whether its caused by his own internal dilemma or Erik's. Charles leaves that tricky question unanswered.

* * *

Tired irises blearily stare at the marble surface basked in shadows for a few long seconds. The fog condensed in her brain momentarily clears to remind her she was in the kitchen for tea. Nodding dazedly, Kaeha gets a cup and mechanically begins the process. Fingertips massage the bridge of her nose when she senses an impending headache. Hank had warned her after all.

The drugs clinging to her system are slowly breaking down into harmless substances which, apparently, leads to a series of discomforts. A bitter scoff escapes her lips as her face contorts into disdain, glaring blithely at the amber liquid tipping into her fragile cup.

"_Discomforts_. I feel like I've been run over by a truck repeatedly." She mutters darkly.

Fingers touch the porcelain edge, absorbing heat until her drink is at the perfect temperature. Her mutation may not be in the 'Extremely Hazardous' range but it certainly had its perks if used wisely. Allowing a gleeful grin, Kaeha sips her tea and blissfully sighs when warmth ebbs into her veins and soothes her throbbing head.

Now she understands why Charles is more obsessed than most with tea. It really eases migraines. Picking up her warm cup, Kaeha's bare feet are soundless as she stealthily heads for her room. Small talk is on the bottom of her priority list. The energy user crawls through barely used hallways to avoid any wandering insomniac students. Despite the low population, random night prowlers are a surprising regularity.

She creeps across a bend only to skid, again, to a silent halt. Wary hazel eyes shift to the carpeted floor. Warm light spills across the floor in a thin band of glowing orange from the slightly ajar door. Bronzed fingers thread through the air in a sharp flick of her wrist. The energy signature is familiar and one she's been trying, and miserably failing, to avoid: Erik. Scrutinizing at the door, Kaeha notes the room is another of Charles's endless mini libraries.

_Judging by the dust, it's clearly not used too often either_. She muses.

Toes curl into the fuzzy carpet as she debates whether she should leave or check on the solitary man. He had seemed unsettled when Kaeha saw him that afternoon. Then again, Charles was in no better state either. She quickly adds the third of checking up on her gentle friend into her mental debate.

"I don't bite." Velvet tones quietly call out, a challenge to enter the room lacing Erik's voice.

"Said the spider to the fly." Kaeha replies in a sickly sweet croon as she instinctively accepts his dare.

The disgustingly saccharine syllables elicit the reaction she wanted from Erik: a noise torn between annoyance and amusement. The room is otherwise silent. Lamps have been carefully chosen to provide the room with enough light to keep the shadows at bay yet mask half of Erik's slender form in darkness. She knows the effect is completely intentional when she's denied a proper view of his face.

Curious eyes survey the room as she continues drinking her tea. The other occupant of the room says nothing as she browses the shelves. Kaeha adopts the same silent approach when she senses his fluctuating energy slowly settle. It's interesting how emotions expressed themselves in minute forms.

Regardless, Erik seems contented by her calm presence. The brunette treads cautiously though; quiet moments with the metal bender tended to be dangerous, aggravating or creepily idyllic. There was nothing in between with the duo; at least not with their paltry trust towards each other. Kaeha, however, has a hunch that Erik is mulling over Charles.

_His usual 'let us exterminate the human race' thoughts have a different wavelength frequency._ She sighs.

Annoyed at their almost childish standstill, Kaeha pulls out a leather-bound book and examines the cover in the dim lighting. The elegant title _Collected Works of G.K. Chesterton_ stares up at her in cursive script. Flipping past worn pages, she finds the line she was looking for before shoving the book into Erik's hands. Eyebrows knot briefly as he delicately cradles it and reads the line her finger tapped.

"_The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him._" He reads aloud.

Confusion slightly contorts the emotionless lines of his jaw as he gazes up at her expectantly. Kaeha resists the urge to shake him by the shoulders. Her every gesture had to be censored and filtered thanks to the metal loops still encircling her wrists. Drawing a breath, she hesitantly plunges into unfamiliar territory.

"Your emotions are always in extremities. If you care for someone, then it is deeply and unconditionally. The same applies to your feelings of hatred, anger or sadness. You care for Charles. I see it; we all see it. A true friend is a rare miracle that so few are blessed with. Now explain to yourself why you would jeopardize a way to further your cause and restore your friendship simply because of _guilt_." She calmly states.

Razor blue irises turn an almost unearthly shade of ice as Erik quietly absorbs her words. Kaeha turns off her usual energy sensors to allow himself a moment alone with his emotions. All she manages to catch is a brief flicker of fury and sorrow. It takes Erik a few minutes to finally avert his gaze from her face to the printed words.

"Good night, Kaeha." Erik finally dismisses in a quiet murmur.

"Good night." She echoes evenly, picking up her cup and exiting the room.

She had noticed his knuckles turn white as Erik tightly clutched onto the worn book on her way out. Kaeha knows he never considered Charles a hindrance to his goals. Yes, perhaps as a ghost to forever haunt his nights to remind Erik of his mistakes but never an _obstacle_. It pained her to paint her kind friend in such emotionless terms but those were the only sort Erik could acknowledge.

_Don't screw this up, Lehnsherr._ She sighs.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant (as always):_**

**_I think my idealistic weekly updates are officially impossible. OTL Well, at least there's still an update and it's the longest! :D Plus, Erik is slowly but steadily thawing out so yaay you emotionally awkward man. :3  
_**

**_I feel terrible for not including more of the other kids or even Hank and Moira. I'll try and fix that soon. By the way, review away if you can, lovelies. Feedback always makes me eager to write! C:_**


	9. First Move

"You look harassed." A disembodied voice remarks around the familiar _crunch_ of an apple.

Honed reflexes brutally trained to a sharp point kept Moira from screaming like a five year old girl. Swallowing the knotted nerves in her throat, she turns around. It takes a few moments but she finally locates her fellow brunette. Slender limbs are neatly coiled into the lotus position as Kaeha sits atop the wooden dining table. Exhaling a sigh, Moira nods and occupies the chair closest to the mutant.

"You have _no idea._" She groans in despair.

A laugh slips out when the uneven texture of a cookie touches her palm. Gratuitously accepting the sugary treat wedged under her hand, Moira nibbles on it as her mind wanders. Her thoughts center on the recent investigations. Now that Emma and Azazel are on their side, possible leads and clues surged forward like a tidal wave.

Progress is faster than ever and more dead ends were quickly eliminated. Despite that, the number of bodies were piling up. Children, teenagers and the scant few adults were sloppily butchered, drugged or reduced to a bloody mess of broken limbs. Clearly the warped scientists were feeling pressured by their constant raids.

Moira feels nausea and bile coagulate in her throat at the memories. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't erase the phantom sensation of cradling those shattered bodies. Firmly shutting down those morbid thoughts, she shifts to the mental list of gathered information.

A fairly accurate extent of the organization's network has been determined. Thankfully, the minimal facilities they occupied were limited to isolated areas of USA's east coast and patches of woodlands in Canada.

What worried her was the lack of knowledge on the person or people heading this group and the increasingly potent drugs. Every scientist they attempted to apprehend were terminated by an implanted chip in their brain. It was a new preventive measure after Kaeha's allies escaped.

Plus, whatever hired guards or mercenaries they _did_ contain had nothing useful to divulge no matter how deeply Emma probed their minds. However, there was a recent and impressive breakthrough. Erik accompanied them on their previous ambush and successfully extracted one chip seconds from detonation. The blonde telepath then withdrew every morsel of information from the experimenter's mind with surgical precision.

Details on a meeting with anxious higher ranks were discovered. Now they had a date, location and time.

_All that's missing is 'who' but we'll find that out soon enough._ Moira concludes, determined eyes flashing in the dark.

Preparations for all sorts of possible scenarios were being made. Erik, his team and even some of Charles's students were roped into participating. No one could safely dismiss the speculation of mutants collaborating with their enemies after all. Thus, Moira is being worn to the bone with drills, strategy meetings and insomnia.

"You can get through this." Kaeha quietly reassures.

Blinking away the haze clouding her mind, Moira lifts her gaze and manages to make out Kaeha's encouraging smile. Tanned fingers lace through hers as Kaeha squeezes her hand. The CIA agent feels her strength renewed as a burst of energy floods her veins. Breathing deeply, Moira squeezes her hand back and absorbs the steady warmth that her companion offered. She feels much calmer now.

"How are you holding up?" Moira questions.

It was obviously an attempt to steer the conversation towards lighter topics. Kaeha indulges her by playing along which Moira is grateful for. Fingers snap to conjure a small flame that dances right above her fingertip. Crimson fire flickers into orange then yellow and finally white as the temperature increases before abruptly extinguishing.

"I'd say about one fifth of my powers are back. My stamina is still too incompetent for combat practice though." She responds, glaring at the table.

This time, it's Moira that gives Kaeha's hand a reassuring squeeze. It may have lacked the spark of revitalizing energy but it still conveyed her message: _You'll get through this._ Kaeha smiles gratefully and rewards Moira with a second cookie from the jar by her knee. Another amused laugh tumbles out of the agent's lips. They sit there for what feels like a long age, bantering quietly about normal and mundane affairs.

When Moira nearly nods off, the duo finally depart from the vast kitchen and head upstairs for their rooms. The brunette barely notices the route she takes. Far too often she prowled untouched corridors to mull over her troubles. Thus, lax muscles flinch when Kaeha's fingers suddenly claw into her upper arm. This time Moira jumps in surprise as wide eyes swivel towards the slender mutant by her side.

"What is it?" She asks in a hushed whisper.

Cautious hazel irises dart between the door at the hallway's end and the luxurious floors. Eyebrows furrow as the agent tilts sideways at a precarious angle to glimpse the door. Her confusion merely doubles when the carved sign tells her its a library. Last time she checked, Kaeha simply adored libraries.

Said conundrum firmly tugs Moira onto a different path without a backwards glance. Lips part to question her odd behavior only to seal shut at the sight of her tumultuous expression. The brunette has seen the same agitation contorting her face - and Erik's - once after their forced run. Chuckles fill the air as Kaeha stubbornly drags her dear friend behind her, annoyed grip tightening with each muffled sound of mirth.

"Are you running away?" Moira questions between errant giggles.

"Shut up." Kaeha grumbles in obvious denial.

* * *

"Hey, you okay?" A hesitant voice asks.

Erik starts in surprise before concealing the moment of weakness with a dour glare. It clearly intimidates the ginger enough to erase any memory of the metal bender's flinch. A flustered Sean tries to stop blubbering while contemplative irises shift back to the box cradled in his hands. Perhaps the question was warranted since he had been standing outside the door for an unusually long time.

"I'm fine." Erik curtly replies.

Deep, velvet-like tones sound strained and distant as fingers trace the intricate wooden border. Memories surge forth with each light caress and Erik is torn between loathing and enjoying the vivid mental images. Sean hums absently as his head tilts to the side, thin arms crossing across a slender chest. The sonic screamer scrutinizes Erik's rigid posture before finally nodding at whatever conclusion his mind produced.

He waits for Sean to pass an oblivious or jovial remark as always only to receive a strong, reassuring pat upon stiff shoulders.

"Whatever awful scenario you've got playing in your head, it really isn't as bad as you think." Sean counsels sagely.

Blinking in disbelief at the oddly astute observation, Erik is reduced to a silent stare as the ginger flashes a victory sign before ambling down the hallway. It takes him a few long moments to regain his composure but he does manage it. Shoulders roll back to shrug off the odd incident but Erik still feels the warm imprint of optimistic fingers.

He shakes his head and forcefully redirects his attention to the wooden case. Lacquered wood gleams up at him in a seductive lure to lift the lid. Erik doesn't have to though. He knows every polished component inside down to the slight scuff beneath a knight's metal base. After all, he _had_ spent hours in Charles's study playing chess with the telepath until Hank hounded them to end their late matches and sleep.

Starting a chess match was their subtle way to make amends. Charles and Erik are proud men with entrenched beliefs and clashing ideals; storming off and angry spats were inevitable. Regardless, all one had to do was set up the checkered board and seething indignation would fade as the game progressed. It was effortless.

_'Was' indeed._ Erik mutters darkly.

Teeth sink into his tongue sharply to ward off morbid thoughts. Erik has spent _enough_ of his time brooding in isolated libraries. Besides, visits from an annoying brunette with blunt truths are a pain he isn't willing to endure. For one last time, he stares at the brass knob and visualizes his possible failure. Erik loathes to lose and failure is no exception.

At this moment though, he no longer cares.

Fingers rap on the door in three consecutive knocks. A muffled permission to enter filters through the heavy oak door. Twisting the knob, Erik hesitantly steps through the threshold to see Charles seated by his table. Papers are strewn about the polished surface and litter the floors. Bending over, he picks one up and glances over a possibly syllabus with heavily crossed out words.

"Ah, Moira, it's about time you-" The telepath begins speaking only to cease once he finally glances upwards.

Charles swallows down the rest of his words, casting an analytic look similar to Sean's as graceful hands slowly gather his papers. Erik notices his gaze lingering on the ornate chess case before averting after a long pause. Once his table is relatively clear, fingers steeple and expectant cerulean irises bore into Erik. It was a strenuous effort to not squirm.

"You were expecting company." He points out, approaching the desk in small, measured steps.

"Company that can wait." Charles evenly replies.

Any chance of further delaying his future demise is effectively eradicated by the scholar's neutral voice. Refusing to swallow the thick lump growing in throat, which would clearly be a sign of weakness, Erik takes a seat and silently assembles the chess set. Charles is a silent spectator the entire time. Gripping his hidden knees tightly, Erik blinks and the white marble pawn glides two boxes forward.

It takes more courage than necessary to lift his gaze from the stationary rook to Charles's face. A plethora of emotions shift across the telepath's face as he stares the pawn down in deliberation. Finally, slender fingers curl around a black pawn and slowly edges it one step forward. Erik releases the breath of relief he wasn't aware he withheld in a sharp exhale.

"This won't fix everything." Charles murmurs as he mentally maps out his next few moves.

"I realize." Erik responds in equally soft tremors.

Obviously, the simplified act of camaraderie isn't enough to exonerate every committed crime or lurking guilt. The duo have slowly changed though. Charles now accepts that a more aggressive approach may pave the way to peace and Erik now acknowledges that non-mutants have their own value. A few months apart and failed attempts on both ends taught them each that much.

Regardless, a better understanding wouldn't restore their friendship. After spending a few days here, Erik realized Charles had forgiven him long ago. The only obstacles in their way are mending their shattered trust and overcoming the brewing feelings of bitterness. As the game progresses and sarcastic remarks spring forward, the familiar ease in simply existing together slowly creeps in.

However, Erik is aware of the magnitude of this colossal challenge. It stands before him like a towering mountain with blistering winds and an invisible peak that stretches on endlessly. Despite that, he has at least taken the first step by initiating a game of chess. Now, he has hope.

_It's a start._

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:_**

**_I'd like to start my rant with a personal, humongous thanks to my awesome guest reviewer. Your critique was priceless and alterations have been made, hopefully for the better. :D_**

**_Finally, I'd just like to smother everyone in endless hugs! I seriously cannot believe I have more than forty followers now. You guys make my world shine! *creys in joy*_**


	10. Constant Oddities

Tanned fingers lift the horrendous disaster of canary and obsidian with a nauseated grimace. Kaeha inspects every seam and crevice, face draining of color as the seconds tick by. Erik tries his best to remain a pillar of severity and fails with a smile flickering across thin lips. His amusement annoys the hell out of her.

"This is the _uniform_? He wants me to _willingly_ put on _yellow spandex_?" Kaeha sputters in disbelief.

"There's also black." Erik tartly corrects.

Her withering glare merely coaxes his smirk to reveal itself in full force. Shoving the monstrosity back into its case, Kaeha glares at the lid. Thoughts of igniting the heinous garment on fire slowly consume her mind. The mere fact that Charles specially prepared this for her prevented an actual combustion. Fingers massage the bridge of her nose as she sighs deeply.

_Something that clingy would be a hindrance for practice_. She mutters in discomfort.

As she deliberates possible substitutes, approaching limbs catch her attention. A wary glance is cast when Erik walks over. A few days after her lecture in the library, Erik started to treat her more cordially. It was a pleasant change but she still kept herself on guard.

A pale hand reaches out towards her and Kaeha blinks blankly at the offered garments. A loose black tunic and sleek leggings have been neatly folded and now nestle within his broad palm. Eyebrows furrow when it appears to be her size.

"Unlike Charles, I predicted a negative reaction and prepared an alternative." Erik drawls, handing over the tidy pile of charcoal.

He doesn't wait for her reply, stalking off towards the edge of the ring. Sinewy muscles flex as Erik melts into customary stretches before sparring. Kaeha, still stunned by sudden kindness, changes into the training garb behind a dressing screen. She glides over to the opposite side of the ring and mirror her opponent's movements.

_It does cater to my tastes better._ She muses, grateful for the nonrestrictive tunic and habitual color scheme.

The energy user brushes aside Erik's perceptive insight and focuses on the familiar ache of muscles. It's been exactly ten days since her awry drug dosing and Hank finally cleared her for physical training. Assisting the kids was a pleasure but a pale comparison to the exhilaration of actual combat. The addictive gratification of pushing her physical limits outweighed her usual practice of nonviolence.

Adrenaline courses through her veins from the familiar build up before a fight. Relaxing her muscles to a deceptively lax state, the unlikely duo step into the center. They circle each other in slow steps as they wait for someone to make the first move.

Admittedly, she would have preferred Hank as her sparring partner. He would have been ideal to refresh her foundation before easing into the complex moves. She would have no such luxury with Erik. The metal bender wouldn't assume she was too weak to handle vigorous exercise and thus would give his all.

_Full steam ahead._ She dryly chirps, darting forward to land a fist into his exposed throat.

Erik easily deflects her punch with an agile slip to the right. The sudden shift throws her slightly off balance enough for calloused fingers to wrap around a thin wrist. Silver loop gleaming, Kaeha is yanked forward and neatly flipped over his shoulder.

She contorts herself to land on her feet instead of her back but his brute strength made it a hard landing. The lingering force shoots up her calves and stabs into her knees. Rolling sideways to avoid a lethal kick to her temple, Kaeha springs back onto her feet in one fluid motion.

A fair amount of space reforms between them as they circle each other once more. The abrupt change in pace from swift blows to slow stalking keeps her on her toes. Well-placed jabs and graceful dodges are traded back and forth between the duo in an almost fierce dance.

Of course, Kaeha is the one that ends up more bruised as their skirmish progresses. Despite being light-footed and skillfully anticipating Erik's blows, he still moves like a well-oiled machine with effortless dexterity as he decimates her flawed defense. She ends up sprawled on the mat fairly often.

Regardless, he would gently help her back onto her feet before calmly explaining the errors she made and methods to fix them. After an hour of sparring, Kaeha finds herself slowly falling in sync to the repeated pattern. She finally acclimated herself to the way his limbs twist and flex and he to hers. Now they move in tandem to a steady rhythm of_ punch, punch, kick, dodge, punch, roll, swipe_.

Hours later once she's run out of steam and starts swaying, Erik ends their bout. This time Kaeha willingly throws herself onto pliant flooring. She aches _everywhere_ but satisfaction soothes the prickling pain in sore muscles. A surprised yelp tears out of her lips when something soft is thrown upon her face.

Kaeha lurches upright into a sitting position, feather-light object sliding into her lap. A small towel with _Xavier _embroidered in copper thread by a corner fills her vision. Erik has a similar one curled around his neck. The brunette hesitantly pinches a corner and slowly lifts it up to eye-level.

_Another random act of kindness? Lehnsherr has lost it._ She grimly muses.

"As a thank you. We'll practice again tomorrow." Erik relays in monotone before stiffly exiting.

Bewildered hazel irises dart back and forth between the fluffy towel and closed door. It takes a few moments for her to absorb the string of abnormal events. Finally, she picks herself up and ambles towards the door while hands mop up lingering beads of sweat. An amused grimace contorts her lips.

"If this is his idea of a 'thank you', he's got a long way to go." Kaeha mutters dryly.

Regardless, fingers stroke the gentle surface in endearing caresses as an unconscious smile bats aside her grimace.

_That _was_ kind of cute though._ She muses, a soft laugh flitting by._  
_

* * *

Glittering heels _click_ across concrete floors in a hushed symphony. Armed men flow past her, separating around her form as though she were a shining rock disrupting a current of black. No one lingered by her side to offer protection. Emma found it amusing that they knew better to charge on than waste their breath.

Enemies only had to get within a ten feet radius of the telepath before crumpling to the floor instantly. Such unprotected and vulnerable minds were easy specks to crush. Ivory skin transforms into dazzling diamonds to rebound the array of bullets fired in her direction.

All it took was a tilt of golden locks and the firing ceased as minds were knocked unconscious. Emma likes the absence of uncouth thoughts. Sniffing demurely as she steps over a fallen man, Emma projects the mental image of a heavily sealed room filled with cowering scientists into Azazel's mind.

He nods and easily snaps the neck of the burly soldier he was grappling with. Manicured fingers lace with his and a blink later they appear inside the vaulted room. Steel blue irises glint in sadistic mirth when men in white coats and pressed suits recoil in horror.

"How pathetic." She sighs, putrid thoughts of abandonment howling against the edges of her mind.

A mad clamor for hidden arms and the locked door occurs. The telepath doesn't move a muscle as Azazel skillfully teleports them around the heavy barrage of drug-encased bullets. Green now decorates the previously bare walls in glowing splatters.

Emma does a quick sweep of their minds and finds the information she needs in one: tranquilizers have been added to the harmful luminescent mixture. Lips curve into a smirk as she easily plants an illusion into erratic minds.

The duo watch as upper officials from the twisted anti-mutant organization fire at each other under the deception that their comrades were the spectating mutants. Emma examines her nails until the final _thud _rings out. Accessing the thrumming mental links connecting their raiding party, she speaks.

_It's done._ The telepath calmly relays as Azazel binds comatose men with rope and handcuffs.

_Great job, Emma. We're on our way. Level 3 is clear._ Moira replies, echoes of acknowledgement trailing behind her.

Emma departs from the mental conversation when the brunette agent methodically allocates her team to take down the remaining men. Now that the students were a part of the ambush force, even a highly guarded meeting like this was easy enough to conquer.

The kids were good. She would never verbally say it but she could acknowledge it in her mind. Their improvement spiked once Charles allowed Erik to partake in the training. It was interesting to see Kaeha and her 'leader' work together as ordained by her fellow telepath.

_Like poetry in motion._ She ponders, lips forming a small smirk.

Pondering whether the energy mutant would be Erik's downfall or savior, Emma flinches in surprise when Azazel grabs her arm. They disappear in a flurry of flames and smoke as Emma reappears by a desolated corner. Her comrade has his arms firmly twisted around a pale neck.

A man clad in a sleet grey suit struggles against the vice grip, raised gun shaking in his hand. Emerald is splattered against the wall behind where she previously stood. Azazel flexes crimson arms twice and the brunette with silver peppering his temples is now dead to the world.

"He shouldn't be left alive." Emma sniffs in disdain.

"That would go against Erik's orders." The teleporter retorts, using a sailor's knot for his binding.

Humming absently, her gaze flickers over the man that tried to assault her. It was odd; she hadn't sensed his mind. As a telepath, any active mind was a beacon of energy that brushed against her consciousness. This person was the unusual exception.

Her initial impression was that he acted as a sponsor for the organization's vile experiments given his polished appearance. Now, with a clear view of his face, she realized otherwise.

This is the man that sat at the head of the table. He was the only one that glared at the duo with boiling hatred than panic when they first arrived. Every action he made exuded calmness and precision.

_He's dangerous._ Emma concludes warily.

The door swings open and a string of agents fronted by Alex enter. She steps back as robust men easily haul away bound prisoners as though they weighed nothing. Mutely reaching for Azazel's hand, concrete floors fall away before uneven forest grounds appear beneath her feet. Army vehicles are strewn about, Sean waving brightly to direct the duo to his. Walking over, a niggling thought plagues Emma all through the ride back.

The man looked familiar.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:  
_**

**_Finally, a little action! :D Bonding time is great and all but it's high time to move forward. The **_Erik and Kaeha_** relationship is building up. I know it's not pure romance and burning glances but neither seem inclined to do so. xD  
_**

**_At least a major blow to the organization has been dealt - yay for Charles's kiddies! Now the plot thickens bwahahaha! Well, not really, but I can try. *grins sheepishly*_**


	11. Unexpected

Cuffed loafers tear across carpeted floors before burning a trail through manicured lawns. Hank waves frantically and breathes in relief when Kaeha spots him. Confusion flickers across her face before she resumes her neutral mask. Leaving the students with a reading assignment, she discreetly hurries over to his side.

Fingers touch his arm and Hank feels his bubbling anxiety dampen from an energy transfer. A watery smile is flashed in gratitude before he steps back with the brunette in tow. They stand just outside the students' hearing range. His gaze flickers to the glass doors before settling on her.

"It's them." The medic mutters in despair.

Her grip tightens and Hank can practically feel the eye roll she withheld. The duo exit the sunny grounds Kaeha preferred to use over classrooms and brisk walk towards Charles's study. Hank winces when raised voices filter through heavy doors and echo down corridors in muffled tones. Concern ebbs into his veins when Charles's usual mental presence is absent. They exchange a nod before nudging the door open.

Instincts catapult him to the right with Kaeha tucked against his side protectively. A heavy volume careens through their initial spot and rams into the corridor wall with a resounding _boom_. Glancing up, he sees Charles livid and white-knuckled as he clutches his table and glares fiercely.

Erik is on the other end of the room, annoyance contorting his face as books adorned with ornate metal edges whirl around him. They mirror the one spinning outside on the corridor floor.

"They are humans, Erik! You can't just harm them as you wish!" Charles protests, scathing words flung at the taller man.

"These _humans _tormented our brothers and sisters. _Where was their mercy then?_" The mental bender hisses.

Gently helping the brunette to her feet, Hank stifles a sigh. Charles and Erik have been at this 'discussion' for an hour ever since Moira checked in to provide an update. Apparently, CIA gave the first swing at interrogating the captives to the mutants due to the atrocities. Clearly, the duo had differing opinions on handling it.

Erik felt they should extract every piece of information from the prisoners regardless of the consequences. On the other hand, Charles approved of an aggressive approach if need be but without causing excessive harm.

The medic had tried to play mediator beforehand but that attempt crashed and burned spectacularly. The only other solution he could think of was Kaeha. Lately, where Charles's words failed to reach Erik, Kaeha's did. She alternated between the two and negotiated compromises the former friends could grudgingly accept.

_You're up._ Hank whispers, projecting the thought towards her.

Lips purse in a sharp exhale as she nods in acknowledgement. Determined hazel irises stare at Erik while her hand crackles and the air around Hank shifts. Awe fills his gaze when the air solidifies around him like a protective barrier. Wayward books harmlessly bounce off of the dense surface even when Kaeha steps beyond it. Hank watches as the slender woman easily weaves through novels and journals that narrowly sail by.

Despite trusting the energy mutant completely, anxiety still prickles down his spine when she heads for Erik. Hank didn't think he would be the best choice given how angry he must be to explode in such a manner. His worries flicker out like a dying flame once Kaeha reaches her target though.

Hank expected her to talk Erik down with infallible logic, as she always did. Instead, her hand rears back before she unexpectedly slams her fist into his angular jaw. Sparks of raw energy flit through the air from bent fingers. The taller man crumples to the floor, crashing heavily on his side. Charles mirrors the bewildered expression Hank has as Kaeha crosses her arms and glares down at a stunned Erik.

"Lehnsherr, _out_." Kaeha growls.

Defiant fire flickers back into his eyes until she snatches a book that was hovering hesitantly in the air. Erik starts in surprise before realization sinks in as dark eyes survey the room. The damaged sight that greets him silences any future protests.

Bronzed fingers wave sharply and Hank's hand passes through thin air once more. Her gaze shifts over to him before tilting her head towards Charles with her chin. The medic snaps to attention and darts over to the telepath's side. Tense shoulders relax under his restraining hand as Charles slowly stops bristling.

Kaeha leans over to grasp a wiry arm and easily lifts Erik onto his feet. Sparing a single backwards glance, he numbly trails after the energy user as she marches towards the door. Heavy oak creaks shut behind them. Charles slumps against his chair wearily after the departure.

"He brings the worst out of me." He whispers, elbows propped on the table and eyes buried against laced fingers.

"The feeling is mutual, I think." Hank mutters wryly.

Thin lips release a bark of derisive laughter at the comment. Inhaling deeply thrice, Charles reclines back into his chair and stares at the door. An amused smile sweeps across his face as fingers touch the back of his neck in vague guilt.

"She handled him well." The telepath remarks.

"For now." Hank agrees with a brisk nod.

_Good luck._ They murmur in unison.

* * *

Long limbs are elegantly coiled atop the couch as Erik gazes out the tall window. To those that didn't know him better, he appeared emotionless. To those that did know him better, Erik is morose and contrite. Kaeha blinks at the realization that she _did_ know him well enough to decipher his cryptic emotions.

_Another time and place for that, Malik._ Her wise mental voice warns.

She heeds the advice and tucks that little dilemma into an imaginary drawer. Fingers tightly wrap soft cloth around the ice cubes she pilfered from the kitchen fridge before resting it against his jawline. Angry purple in varying shades had blossomed across pale skin from the impact of her energy-powered punch.

Kaeha should feel sorry but she isn't. She knows it was necessary. Physical contact was the only method to get through the haze of rage when Erik lost control of his emotions to that degree. Thankfully, those moments are extremely rare if ever.

His head tilts in a sharp nod before grasping the makeshift ice pack. She curls herself atop the sturdy coffee table and observes him as he nurses his wound. The energy mutant felt no hostility or resentment resonating from her companion. It would appear that Erik didn't perceive her interruption as a hindrance. Allowing a few moments for him to wallow in misery, she finally ends the silence.

"After dinner, you're going to talk to Charles." She orders evenly.

Icy blue irises slide towards her in a reproachful glare. Kaeha meets his intense gaze head on, arching an eyebrow in a challenge to question her. Their staring match drags on for long seconds before Erik finally averts his eyes. They bore a hole into the floor as he clutches the ice pack tighter. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet and brittle and lacking his usual confidence.

"Have I ruined things again?" Erik murmurs.

Kaeha assumes he directed the question to himself until he drags his gaze back up to her. Instinctively, her slouching spine straightens. The gravity of his inquiry is impossible to miss. Words cluster in her mind in a mad dash to be first but she calmly sorts through the mess and carefully selects a few.

"No. You've both had similar arguments before. This is no different." Kaeha huffs logically.

Her voice left no room for arguments as Erik quietly deliberates her words. Triumph surges through her veins when the lingering doubt that clung to his gaze fades. Unease had prickled along her skin when he lacked his typical fire. Erik looking beaten and worn down disturbed her greatly for reasons she'd rather ignore.

"Charles is right; senseless violence won't fare well, at least not now. We'll talk." Erik suddenly announces.

Kaeha blinks in surprise, not expecting such an easy victory but hastily nods. She would be the last person to refute an effortless win over the stubborn man. No other words of reassurance are uttered after that. Kaeha simply didn't need to. She had miraculously fixed the dent in Erik's composure and they both know he would be alright after a few hours of solitude.

Reaching over to pat his shoulder as a sign of farewell, she slides onto her feet and heads for the door. Erik barely notices, already brooding about methods to approach Charles in an amicable fashion. The energy user is nearly past the threshold when a thought stops her just shy of the entrance.

"I want to be there. The interrogation, I mean." She whispers.

Even without turning, Kaeha feels intense irises boring a hole into her stiff spine. Calm energy spikes into the familiar sensation of trembling curiosity before settling back into steady waves of thought. The brunette suppresses the wild urge to fiddle with her collar or trace circles on the carpet with bare toes.

"This is part of your mission." Erik finally replies.

A flinch ripples across her slender form and she mentally swears at the dead giveaway. It takes her longer than she cares for to tamp down the flash of anxiety. Throughout her entire stay, her comrades wisely skirted around inquires of her past or current goals. They knew she had a mission to achieve; it was impossible to not conclude such with how hard Kaeha trains.

_Of course Lehnsherr would figure it out._ She groans.

Derisive chuckles echo behind her from the prolonged silence. Erik clearly senses her discomfort at the topic which only amuses him further. Lips seal shut to hold back a bitingly sarcastic remark or a hostile snarl. It's astounds her constantly how this one man infuriates and yet fascinates her.

"I never once considered you not being there." He comments almost absently.

For a moment, Kaeha freezes in surprise. As always, Erik never answered her the way she expected him to. The implication that he always assumed she would be present for the questioning revealed the amount of trust Erik carried for her. Charles used to be the only one to garner such an absolute thought.

"T-Thank you." She splutters in a shaky voice.

Her only response is a noncommittal hum from the ruminating man. Realizing it's a chance to escape, she barks out a quick goodbye before dashing out of the room. Her steps are quick and brisk as she heads back to the courtyard. After all, she did have the abandoned literature class to return to.

As she tries to maintain a steady pace instead of a mad run, Kaeha tries to ignore the brief jolt of delight she sensed from Erik at her words of gratitude. Well, that and the abrupt warmth bubbling through her veins from the mental bender's appreciation of something so trivial.

_He'll be the death of me. _Kaeha mutters.

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:**_

_**Oh mein gott, finally an update. Bless you lot for being so patient. C': Anyway, I took a slight step back from 'full steam ahead'. I just realized that the end is approaching. :O**_

_**I expect this little ficlet wrapping up within another six chapters perhaps? Hopefully Erik and Kaeha have formed a solid relationship by then. Thank you for reading and do drop a review! :D**_


	12. Of Coats And Suits

Shadows dance across her eyes as Kaeha stoically watches the distasteful scene before her. Beyond the thick one-way glass, Erik, flanked by Alex and Azazel, corners the nearly hysterical man. The older man with a wrinkled suit and disheveled hair from CIA manhandling strutted in with his head held high when he first entered the confined room. Arrogant glares and snarls of disgust were directed all around.

However, a few hours later and he's reduced to _this_. Groveling for mercy as he spills every secret in his arsenal in return for his paltry life. It's the very definition of pathetic. Clearly, his allies were aware of his true colors for nothing of high importance had been entrusted into his care. It's a wise move on all accounts.

"How many more?" Kaeha whispers, solemn gaze never once wavering.

"Two. At least the other seven were more..._dignified_." Charles mutters.

Stifling a cringe at an outburst of tears, the energy mutant is inclined to agree. Erik merely engaged in callous taunts about his trapped state and ruined reputation for a few minutes. Alex and Azazel intimidated him further with a flare of scarlet light or flashing a forked tail. The man - Blackthorne, now she remembers - crumbled then and there. It was a sharp contrast to his predecessors. Men decked in starched white coats or lavish silk suits merely glared balefully.

It was the only hint of emotion they permitted even as Erik littered their bound forms with bruises and scrapes. Sculpted muscles flex as Alex hauls Blackthorne out by his shoulders. He scowls in distaste, shoving the sobbing man into the waiting arms of a CIA agent. The soldier offers a curt salute before dragging the howling man away with trained ease.

A stern woman takes his place as she marches a scientist along. The loop continues with deathly silence, stony glares and accurate punches. As always, Emma departs from their little group to enter the room coated in glittering diamonds. All she needs is that brief flicker of surprise and she invades their mind like a lethal assassin.

Emma takes everything she can and never tries to be gentle. Triumphant vengeance glitter in steel blue depths each time and a part of Kaeha is hard-pressed to disapprove. Delicate heels stride out and _click_ back into her chosen spot. The clustered group observe Alex haul the bruised and dazed scientist out the door for the final exchange.

Kaeha feels as though a bucket of ice was dumped down her back when Alex steps aside to reveal their last captive. Nerves start to explode all over her mind in a panicked cacophony as her limbs start to tingle and shake.

_Malik, do _not _react._ Her mind hisses desperately.

Easier said than done though. Kaeha shuts her eyes and forces every quivering muscle to still. The act of restraint and control restores some of her lost composure. However, she could only do so much. Fingers sharply bend into a claw-like hold onto the hem of her shirt; the familiar lightweight material calming her down slightly. Her focus falters for a moment when she detects a sharp spike of discomfort.

Blocking out Erik's lethal words aimed to ruin and provoke, the energy mutant glances at the source: Emma. Her aloof mask flickers for a small moment. Caution and loathing temporarily shroud her eyes before vanishing the next instant.

Kaeha gathers the calm man clad in slate gray tried to attack the blonde and Emma was caught off-guard for the same reason Charles sits up straighter in confusion. They couldn't sense his mind. Jumping on the rare chance, Kaeha reaches out for Emma's mind while Charles is too distracted to notice.

_I need a favor._ She announces bluntly.

_I don't do 'favors'._ The dry reply echoes in her mind.

_You won't mind this one._ Kaeha promises, the thought dark and jagged enough to warrant a considering glance.

_I'm listening._ Emma curtly retorts.

* * *

Knuckles rest atop the steel table that thrums from his pulsing vexation. Erik stands tall and outright intimidating as he looms over the emotionless captive. The only reaction he garners is a slight neck tilt to continue soulless staring. Now, Erik couldn't pinpoint the exact instinctive reason but this man unsettled him.

It wasn't the complete drain of emotions that disturbed him. Erik has mastered and utilized such techniques before so it isn't unusual. No, there was an edge of _familiarity_, as odd as it is, about the man named Killian Aldaine. He takes a step back to analyze said man while Azazel steps forward to take his place. Erik rakes his gaze over Aldaine's appearance.

Short black hair touched with grey at the temples. A sharp jaw and even sharper dark eyes. His posture is immaculate. Broad shoulders and hard muscles that buffer Erik's occasional hurled fist. His skin has a healthy sheen despite the expensive suit hinting a corporate position.

_What is it?_ He mutters, gaze flicking across thin fingers to faint scars then a heavy silver ring with an ornate _A_.

His unsuccessful search for a clue leaves him on edge and Erik welcomes the invisible touch to his mind. Based on the thrum of tingling energy, he knows its neither Charles nor Emma which leaves only one possibility. Layers of mental barriers peel away without a moment of hesitance as he tethers the mental connection.

_I need everyone out of the room._ Kaeha gently speaks into his mind.

_Now?_ He asks, not questioning but merely confirming.

_Now, please._ She echoes and the connection flickers out seconds later.

Erik steps forward to tap Azazel's shoulder, interrupting a cold threat mid-sentence. His comrade nods and swiftly turns his back on Aldaine. Alex reads the situation and easily deciphers the untold demand as he follows. He meets Kaeha and Emma upon opening the door. Just as they appear shoulder to shoulder, a strangled scream echoes behind him. He whips around to stare at Aldaine in disbelief.

The man releases another vicious scream and lurches forward against the metal restraints keeping him bound to the chair. Flat dark eyes are now aflame with a burning hatred, his tall form quaking in anger. Erik follows his livid gaze and finds an unruffled Kaeha at the receiving end. This time, he hesitates as her safety flashes through his mind.

Slender fingers touch his shoulder briefly. She doesn't look at him so Erik has free reign to scrutinize her expression. Its hard and unyielding and Kaeha looks as though she's prepared to go to war. Erik smoothly steps aside to let them pass. He recognized that firm look; apparently, this is a long overdue battle and he refused to get in her way. Charles is wide-eyed and confused as Erik approaches him.

"He knows her," he says, answering the unsaid question, "I don't know how but this, _this_ is important."

Pale lips seal shut to withhold the flurry of questions as Erik stops beside Charles. Together, they watch Kaeha approach Aldaine with curiosity and dread. Veins pulse against Aldaine's neck and temple as he strains forward while vibrating in blatant malice. Erik is grateful he had the hindsight clamp metal strips across his torso as a precaution.

"You should be _dead_, you _worthless abomination_!" Aldaine roars, the loud volume and dripping poison startling everyone.

"Where is she?" The brunette inquires in a soft voice laced with steel.

"I should have killed you! You _disgust_ me, you wretched _freak_!" He screams, thrashing again and again in tormented agony.

Even Erik, as cold and callous as he is, winces at the word 'freak'. Mutants everywhere suffered from that one incorrigible word and he bristles as fingers curl into a tight fist. He chants repeatedly in his mind that he isn't allowed to flick a finger and allow thrumming restraints to crush the vile man's ribs. At least, _not yet_.

"One last chance; _where is she_?" Kaeha fires, slamming her palms down on the table and causing electricity to burst forward and crackle along the walls.

Revulsion twists his face into an ugly expression yet he shrinks back from a moment of weakness. Realizing its a dead end, Kaeha grabs his left arm firmly before electricity surges forth. Aldaine howls in pain and Erik enjoys it for a second before Charles screams and clutches his head in agony.

"Charles?" Erik whispers in concern, dropping to his knees swiftly.

"I-I couldn't read him before but now - oh God, Erik, the _animosity_. _It hurts_." Charles gasps, blue eyes glassy with tears of pain.

The telepath lets out another broken whimper in tandem to Aldaine yelling louder. Erik glances over and stills when Kaeha withdraws her hand slowly, fine copper-colored dust spilling out from a large cut on Aldaine's arm. The man writhes and convulses as his eyes roll back from the onslaught of pain.

Kaeha finally staggers back, teetering and swaying in cold sweat, before Emma steps into view. Steel blue eyes marred in pain narrow and the screaming ceases abruptly as Aldaine's head lolls forward in unconsciousness. Kaeha manages to catch Emma who buckled from the mental pressure drenched in hatred and gazes down at her. They share a grim nod before Hank rushes in after forcing a painkiller on Charles.

The medic gingerly leads them out of the cell and sits them on the corridor floor. He wastes no time in checking their vitals. Erik lingers for a moment longer around Charles before kneeling beside Kaeha. He touches the flecks of dust on her fingers in a silent question.

"It's a non-metallic device implanted in the skin to suppress telepathy. I disassembled the molecules and took it out." She groggily explains.

A flurry of thoughts erupt in his mind. Erik wants to ask her multiple questions about her knowledge about the device and the location. He burns to ask her whether she extracted the information she wanted. It was the only possible reason to push her towards violence and an alliance with Emma. Hell, there's even an irrational need to touch her skin coupled with an urge to offer the hard liquor and achingly sweet cakes she secretly covets to cheer her up.

However, Erik has his priorities sorted. At the top of the list is a singular question that overrides the importance of any other. He had to ask. Kaeha stiffens and nods grimly when she catches his firm gaze, sensing the inevitable and giving the green light to get this over and done with.

"Who is he?" Erik asks.

His voice is pitched low and soothing instead of the intended hard and suspicious. He's getting soft. Despite anticipating the question, Kaeha still winces as fingers coil into a fist. She blinks thrice and inhales deeply once before meeting his eyes. Her gaze is a heady swirl of emotions that shift from bitterness to resentment and finally resignation.

"My father." She whispers quietly.

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:  
**_

_**Dun dun DUN! :O Bet you didn't see that one coming! Or, maybe, you did since I'm not very subtle. Oh wells. *laughs sheepishly* **_

_**As always, it is an honor for you to have read this far and I appreciate every little favorite, follow and review. Do keep reading! :D**_


	13. Her Story

_I'm not hiding. Under no circumstances am I _hiding. Kaeha mutters to herself.

An irritated sigh slips out in a huff as tanned fingers rap her temple. _Of course,_ she's hiding. Nothing else accurately describes lurking in a dusty corner of the mansion to lick her wounds with a large blanket and a tub of expensive ice cream. She had fled to an unused portion of the east wing right after Hank fixed her up, filching necessities along the way. Kaeha _did_ leave a note behind to tell Azazel she stole his food. The confession may have lacked an apology though.

For now, she waits for the kitchen congregation to dismiss themselves. Her friends and 'frenemies' have gathered in the massive space to probably decide who gets sent up to her. She sighs and tugs the woolen blanket closer. Disappearing would only upset her friends and she's too weary to do so.

Finally the clusters of energy beneath her separate. They drift away until one heads for the maze of corridors she wandered through. Kaeha is still too weak to sense who it is and scowls at her palm. If she didn't have such rigid limitations on her abilities, disassembling molecules would be a breeze instead of the actual heavy strain.

Before she can lecture her hand in the half-delirious-half-depressed state she's in, someone knocks. Three sharp raps upon heavy wood. Kaeha feels her stomach drop to her ankles and takes a step back. It was foolish but she had hoped for Charles.

"Lehnsherr." She announces, voice loud enough to filter through the door as permission to enter.

Indeed, the door swings open and there he stands. Erik doesn't pause or linger hesitantly by the threshold. He strides in and sets a bottle of amber liquid as well as two glasses down on the dusty table. A burst of warmth jolts through her veins at the familiar label. It's her absolute favorite. Kaeha cautiously accepts the filled glass when he hands one over.

She knocks back a heavy gulp and relishes in the almost instantaneous effect. Luxurious heat crawls down her throat before blossoming _everywhere_ as the dark edges of morbid thoughts are dulled and muted. Of course, they don't entirely fade but she feels better.

Erik does nothing more than watch her. Kaeha knows he's not going to gently prod and pry to ease the truth out. He would wait until her thoughts are gathered and coherent enough to be voiced. It seems like a daunting task at the moment, the urge to hyperventilate dominating her mind.

"Did Charles ever mention this?" Erik abruptly questions, lifting a muscled arm to flash tattooed numbers.

"I-I asked him once. He mentioned a year and place, nothing more, and I didn't pry." She stammers in a breathless rush.

The memory dances at the edge of her mind. Kaeha had been bored and curious and sought Charles out. There was little to do when restrained to the infirmary ward and he easily amused her with quirky scientific facts or silly childhood memories until she mentioned Erik.

Then, he became tight-lipped and subtly diverted her attention and so she dropped it. Charles's loyalty never ceases to amaze her. Now, Erik watches copper liquid swirl in his glass with a hint of a smile. It fades when he speaks up.

"They tried to separate me from my mother. My powers manifested from the rage and I accidentally bent the gates. A man named Sebastian Shaw took an unhealthy interest and decided to utilize my abilities. My progress wasn't fast enough so he used a bullet and my mother as incentive. I failed and she died. The rest of my life was spent hunting him down until finally I killed him in Cuba." Erik murmurs.

Silence falls upon them. Kaeha takes a hearty swig of her drink, flames in the fireplace fluctuating with her emotions. She didn't know what she expected but it certainly wasn't _that_. His voice shifted as he spoke, softening at his mother and sharpening at Shaw before settling on quiet resignation at Cuba.

Her mind buzzes at the new knowledge as her heart burns with a strange concoction of emotion. Kaeha has difficulty grasping the fact that Erik willingly shared his past with her. She's certain she can count on one hand the amount of people he extended that privilege to. Warmth that has nothing to do with liquor sears through her veins and clogs up her throat.

Marching herself over, Kaeha drops into the empty seat beside him. Erik graciously stays silent as several long moments pass by. Her mind whispers for her to speak; to confide; to _share_. A few weeks ago, the energy mutant would have recoiled at the notion. Now, she can't think of anyone better whom would understand.

_Tell him._ Her mind urges and a beat later, she complies.

* * *

Erik nearly jumps at the sound of her gentle voice. The silence had stretched for so long until he assumed Kaeha wouldn't talk. In all honesty, he didn't mind. He expected no reward for the impulsive sharing of his past. Erik's only intention was to convey that whatever darkness tainted her own past, he wouldn't judge her for it. After all, he's no saint either.

"My mother is warm, caring and kind. She's also a low-level telepath though I didn't know that as a child. Charles reminds me of her so that could be why I'm so attached to him." She says, drifting into a laugh at the end.

He moves without thought to refill her glass. Kaeha smiles and nods but misses how her fingers stop shaking when his briefly brushed along them. Erik keeps that observation to himself and patiently listens.

"My father is the opposite. He hated mutants and was always knee-deep in research to eliminate them. Plus, he was barely around which suited me just fine since he terrified me. Anyway, one fine day I accidentally set a pile of leaves on fire when I was five. My mother was terrified and proud." Kaeha relays with an overwhelming fondness for her mother.

Erik understands completely. Before he met Charles and the kids, the only solace he had was hazy memories with his mother that always warmed his soul. However, he says nothing aloud. A comment would only jar the flow of her memories as her voice darkens and strains.

"We kept my father in the dark; minimized my time around him and developed my control in secret. It was going too well and the other shoe dropped eventually. Killian caught on over the years and discovered us one night. I... I'd never seen my father look so full of hatred." She whispers and Erik hears a child's horror of witnessing something so horrible.

"He wanted to kill me; every fiber of his being screamed it. I was too scared to move. My mother was forced to telepathically knock him out. Then, he knew we were mutants so we took what we could and ran. It was nearly a decade of drifting through towns and never letting our guard down. Despite it all, I was seventeen when he found us. A crude version of the drugs were developed by then and we had no chance. He burned our home down and took my mother away to be murdered."

This time, Erik cuts her off with a tentative brush of fingers over her knuckles. The gesture told her to take a breath and she does exactly that. Kaeha didn't notice that her voice broke at the end. For the usually observant mutant to be so oblivious bothered him. Dark hazel eyes flutter open after a beat and her voice is strong again.

"I was shipped off to a few facilities. Killian decided to weaponize me instead of simply killing me. The painful haze of drugs, experimentation and brutal training made escape impossible until Catherine came along. I intended to destroy the laboratory then go into hiding like what my mother wanted." Kaeha wistfully confesses.

"What stopped you?" He questions.

"Catherine showed me a file - my mother's file, to be exact. Killian never killed her. He used her to create telepathic suppressants instead. The location was only known to him so I thought to draw his attention and capture him by blowing up his precious labs. I didn't consider how I would extract the information without Charles or Emma though." She sighs in quiet reprimand.

"What did you promise Emma?" Erik fires, staring her down when she falls silent.

"A chance to permanently damage his mind. Killian no longer has the ability to access any of his memories. I figured Emma wouldn't mind getting my location by hurting someone that tried to take her telepathy away." Kaeha finally replies in a heavy voice.

"You didn't ask Charles since he would never condone it." He murmurs in realization.

She nods and looks saddened but not guilty. Erik feels a tendril of pride at that. No humane person would ever torture or subject their child to such gruesome treatment. In all honestly, he feels Killian deserves a worse punishment than what Kaeha had delivered.

_He shouldn't be breathing._ Erik mutters darkly, indignant rage flaring as spiteful thoughts circulate his mind.

Kaeha laughs shakily and pats his clenched fist as a sign to calm down. Calloused fingers flex twice and his bristling shoulders relax after a deep breath. Erik catches her fingers when they try to slip away and gently cradles them in his broad palm. They look fragile and delicate upon his coarse palm. Kaeha doesn't try to pull away.

"Could you let Charles know? About everything, I mean." She stutters as a pained expression flickers across her face.

"Already done." He answers quietly.

Erik was prepared for this having formed a telepathic link with Charles before entering the room. Acknowledgement thrums across the mental bond before the telepath slowly pulls away. He knows Charles would select the absolute necessary details to share with the others. Her comrades were fretting incessantly at Kaeha's abrupt seclusion after all.

She whispers thank you and reclines into the couch, lost in thoughts and memories from ages ago. Erik basks in the silence and her comforting warmth by his side. The clarity in his mind from being tethered to reality by Kaeha's warm hand is nothing he can put into words. He really should be concerned at how normal and _right_ it feels.

_Thoughts for another day._ Erik drawls, sinking deeper into the rare peaceful moment.

* * *

**_Author Mini Rant:_**

**_Ohmeingott romance. I'm pants at it but this seems decent-ish. Anyway, Kaeha's history is now over and done with so onwards to the future. C': By the way, I'm so ecstatic to reach sixty followers. You guys rock! *squeals excitedly*  
_**


	14. Unyielding Platinum

Moira frowns at dozens of boards plastered in maps and blueprints overlapped with pencil and ink. Narrow fingers reach out to hastily cross _Charles_ off and scrawl his name at a better vantage point. Leaning back, perched on a sturdy desk, the agent scans over every marked position and location.

_This has to be perfect_. She reiterates.

Charles called her last night to provide an update on Kaeha's restrained meltdown. Moira didn't have the luxury to seethe in rage at what her friend endured. Instead, she channeled her anger to _purpose_ and rallied her comrades. It took long-winded calls, heavy cussing, endless meetings and telepathic discussions to form the current plan of action.

Flurries of noise and movement echo behind her. Mobilized agents are assembling into the formations she designed and strapping on weapons. Charles and the others have boarded a jet and already crossed the US border.

Everything is falling into place but Moira still frets. There's far too much at stake. She refuses to cause Kaeha's failure in saving her mother within the small window of opportunity.

_Small._ Her mind echoes, tamping down exhaustion creeping in from the end of her caffeine high.

Dark irises hunt for weaknesses only to get listless when her search turns up empty. A gentle brush against her mind diverts her attention and Moira nearly laughs at a following burst of soothing energy. Sliding off of the desk, she exits the room and heads up to the landing area to welcome her friends.

Charles smiles sheepishly and checks to see if he overstepped a line. Kaeha merely waits for Moira's inevitable approval with an arched eyebrow. She tilts her head in a subtle nod and they relax.

Tight smiles flash around the group before Moira directs them to their stations. Kaeha lags behind until they are left alone. Moira instantly steps forward to encompass the energy mutant in a firm embrace. Kaeha doesn't gratefully melt into muscled limbs or stiffly hug her back despite expecting the gesture.

Calloused palms merely squeeze Moira's shoulders once in a quiet _I understand; thank you_. A few beats later and the duo disengage. Moira feels more focused now after satisfying the emotional need to comfort. Snapping back into the zone, she rattles off the outline of their plan and highlights the specific route Kaeha will have to take.

Moira never took to Emma but is beyond grateful at receiving such vital information from her. Killian Aldaine spared no cost in ensuring this particular laboratory is secure. There's a labyrinth that spans multiple levels underground to separate the experimentation floor from the special anti-telepathic cell Kaeha's mother is held in.

Aldaine hired multitudes of people to construct each complex layer. This was to ensure only he was aware of the full layout, the hired builders granted a mere miniscule piece to the entire puzzle. It would have taken ages to retrieve each tiny fragment. Thus, with classified blueprints Moira filched and information from Killian's memories, it's nearly impossible to fail.

"The agents are entering in four waves - each containing thirteen soldiers. Azazel will accompany the second heading north. Emma, with Hank and Sean, will storm the west side. Hank will get the mutation suppressants offline while Alex and Janos take the east side with the final wave. Charles and I will be on the border as a backup squad. Between him and Emma, you shouldn't have any troubles." She explains.

Moira expects questions only to receive a terse nod. Kaeha's infallible trust bolsters the agent's confidence. They part to board their respective vehicles and she pauses to watch Kaeha explain the elaborate route to Erik before climbing into the military-grade jeep. Concern would be eating her away if anyone else was accompanying the brunette in.

"If its Erik, it will be okay." She mutters under her breath, remembering the scant few times she watched them train together.

Invisible fingers touch the edges of her mind in a familiar gesture. She flashes a watery smile at Charles before burying the gnawing apprehension. Barking a sharp command to move, the vehicle rumbles forward. Slender fingers fiddle with the gun holstered against her hip as Moira grimly stares out the window.

_It _has_ to be okay._

* * *

An insistent migraine pounds away at his temples as Charles stretches his telepathy further and further. Bright flares of hostile minds disappear as he extinguishes them in fast, merciful strokes. He had expected resistance but never this staggering amount.

Frustration tries to cloud his focus when Charles is mentally shoved away from suppressant-guarded minds with jarring force.

_No, concentrate._ He reminds himself for the umpteenth time.

This wouldn't be a problem. Charles has yet to receive a complaint from Azazel whom entered nearly fifteen minutes ago. He catches a wordless reassurance from Hank before his calm, organized mind steps into the facility compound and morphs into an offensive, instinct-driven space.

Charles has one less worry now. Alex is barging in minutes later and elation sings through his veins when everyone steadily advances. Air rushes out of his lungs when a plethora of jittery minds abruptly flood his senses.

It takes him a moment to realize Hank succeeded in frying the computer-operated devices. A heavy portion quickly flickers out when Emma's signature winter chill sweeps by. Hastily joining the telepathic fray, Charles sets to monitoring and disarming all incoming enemies. Emma greatly eases the taxing effort by sweeping icy tendrils across unsuspecting minds.

Left with only keeping telepathic fingers on half of the diminishing population, he sends a quick_ All clear_ to Kaeha. Acknowledgement surges through their bond before the tether snaps off and Charles is forced to linger around the outskirts of her mind.

Both Kaeha and Erik had declined to be included into the telepathic link strung through everyone's mind. As comforting as the mental presence would be, they preferred the crystal clear clarity from an empty mind. Initially, Charles worried over it.

The duo only had a week of training between them which was surely an inadequate time frame to form a solid partnership. Coupled by the fact that Kaeha wouldn't be utilizing her unique telepathy, instincts alone as an insight on their partner's next move or thought seemed risky.

Now, Charles wonders what on Earth was he thinking. Their minds are compatible cogs that churn a unified machine. If an enemy is approaching Kaeha from her blind spot, a dart backwards and Erik's there to send the soldier sprawling to the floor. If someone tries to swing a kick at Erik's head, Kaeha is already twisting his ankle and electrocuting the man unconscious. They move in perfectly harmonized sync.

Brushing aside his pride at the breathless display of skill, Charles hounds their minds down twisted corridors and dark hallways. Teeth grind when his telepathy starts to wither as they run deeper in. It must be another form of a telepathic inhibitor that makes Charles's head ache.

_This is as far as I can go._ Charles projects to Kaeha, agitation underlying his words.

Her mind is now a small flickering flame in comparison to the usual bonfire of warmth and blazing light. The thin telepathic thread bridging their minds is splintered and nearly shattered. A flare of calm energy reins in his roiling anxiety and the telepath's erratic heartbeat calms down. Inhaling deeply, he gently touches her mind to pass a message.

_Stay safe, my friend; both of you._ He thickly murmurs.

_We will._ She confidently assures.

Then, her mind disappears into a dark void Charles can't breach no matter how hard he tries.

* * *

Fingers reach down towards her thigh to curl around the protruding hilt. Gritting her teeth, Kaeha yanks firmly and the blade slides out in a bloody mess. The energy mutant barely notices, wide-eyed gaze fixed upon looming titanium doors.

Erik is the only bright spark in her suddenly bleak world. He makes a swift round to check pulse points of every body littering the floor, ensuring they stay there. Only his steady presence prevents her from hyperventilating as her vision morphs into a narrow tunnel. Her heart squeezes painfully beneath her ribcage and Kaeha can't find the courage to _move_.

She flinches in surprise when a calloused hand gently overlays hers. Bronzed fingers spring apart and the knife finally clatters to the floor. The resounding noise forces air into her lungs and she finally turns her gaze away. Erik continues to emit calming waves of assurance beneath the carefully contained rage that always drives him.

"What are you afraid of?" He questions, more curious than condescending and patient when she fails to speak a few times.

"I - what if I'm too late? What if the person in there isn't my mother but a shell? How do I bear that?" She chokes out, voice cracking at the end.

"Because a shell is better than a dead parent; because she has a chance of healing and returning to her former glory. If she's your mother, she'll be okay." Erik quietly states.

_This is entirely your call._ He projects into her mind for the first time.

Swallowing nervously, Kaeha locks away the irrational fears that haunted her nights. There's only one true way to completely erase them from existence: opening the locked doors. Her hand trembles once before stilling when her palm presses against cool metal. A wave of energy pulses across the surface before returning to her palm. Every microscopic bond connecting each atom of metal is revealed in her mind like an unfurled map.

"I'll help." Erik murmurs, stepping into place beside her with his own pale hand next to hers.

Kaeha nods and stretches out her powers, invisible fingers coiling around thrumming threads before slowly snapping them apart. Instead of easily shattering the metal door, Erik urges the quivering platinum to surrender and disassociate under her command.

Kaeha doesn't feel the usual strain from exercising her powers to such a complex level with Erik's help. Metal dissolves into fine silvery dust that dances through the air and settles on concrete floor. Darting a hesitant look at Erik, who tilts his head towards the dark abyss, Kaeha takes one cautious step forward.

She reels back instantly when a familiar surge of energy floods her alert sensors. It's weakened but unmistakable. After all, Kaeha spent years with that energy imprint until she knows every little spike and dip like the back of her hand.

"Mama?"

* * *

_**Author Mini Rant:**_

_**I am outrageously sorry for how long this took to put out. A mental block made the previous four drafts utterly awful. Fifth time's the charm, eh? *laughs sheepishly***_

_**Anyway, last few chapters to go and hopefully the next update will be faster. Thanks so much for your reviews, follows and favorites. C':**_


	15. Dark Shadows

Erratic nerves bounce through her veins when no reply echoes back from the darkness. Kaeha swallows the lump of lead in her throat and clenches her shaking fingers. Morbid thoughts start to thread through her mind. Her mother could be poisoned or on the verge of death. Hell, she could be brain dead or beaten to an extent that she couldn't speak.

Dark ideas clamor for the spotlight in her head. She nearly sinks into a depressive reverie until hard knuckles rap against her spine. Kaeha jumps and swivels to her left, looking up to see a disgruntled Erik. He retracts his hand and jerks his chin towards the shrouded hallway.

"She's not dead. Pull yourself together." He gruffly orders.

Her incoherent sputters are ignored as he grasps her shoulder and manhandles her into the shadows. It's reminiscent of the multiple times he dragged her to training when she was petulant and aching all over. The warm fragment of memory bolsters her confidence, allowing her to gently free her arm and conjure up orbs of softly glowing flames.

Warm light spills across polished marble floors and smooth metal walls. The shadows were so thick that her flames could only light the path a few paces ahead of her. Erik gently places a hand on her back, other palm facing outwards as metal thrums under his control, and takes each cautious step with her.

Her stomach plummets to the floor when an orb touches the familiar surface of thick glass. Hazy memories of being trapped in the same cell spring forward. Kaeha nearly feels the phantom sensation of needles embedded into her veins and the scathing stream of electricity. Gritting her teeth hard, she forces the awful memories to dissipate and steps forward to probe the dense transparent wall.

Familiar energy rolls towards her palm in lulled waves. The nauseating sting of telepathic inhibitors laced in the glass disrupts the gentle flow. Chilled fingers press harder, weaving her powers through the minuscule gaps of entwined suppressants until Kaeha has a firm grip on the stagnated air within the cell.

Knuckles flex and clench as Kaeha slowly stacks layers of air in a protective shield around the curled form on the floor. She flinches each time hardened air brushes against knotted hair or tattered clothing. It's a mountainous effort to keep a leash on raging emotions but she somehow succeeds.

Stepping back, Kaeha sucks in a breath before plunging her mutation into the structure of the glass. Invisible fingers catch on heavily bonded atoms before slowly weakening the bindings. Soft creaks and groans emits from the previously impermeable barrier as Kaeha turns the glass into a flimsy, brittle layer. Breathing heavily, she transmits a dart of energy to Erik. He ceases patrolling the room and returns to her side.

"Take it down." Kaeha declares solemnly.

_She's safe; I have a shield on her._ She informs when hesitance flashes across Erik's face.

The metallokinetic nods and sharply extends his fingers before slowly clenching them into a fist. As calloused digits tremble against unseen resistance, the room slowly falls apart. Metal panels rip off the walls only to split into narrow harpoons that pierce through the cell.

Glass shatters to the floor in a chiming symphony of music accompanied by the coarse keening of crumpling metal. Dust and debris float up to inhibit her vision. Platinum panels hover above her head, bearing the brunt of the ceiling caving in as Erik tears into metal beams.

In a full minute, the holding facility is completely eradicated. Kaeha conjures up a strong gust of wind that whirls around the room and whisks hazy particles away. All that remains before her is the sturdy shelter she created.

_Go._ Erik murmurs, adding a physical nudge before withdrawing to the doorway.

Kaeha knows he would declare his act a precautionary measure. She also knows it was just a mask to give her some privacy. After all, they share the same dislike: public displays of vulnerability. Once Erik is a safe distance away, Kaeha slowly steps forward until she's kneeling before protective air.

The energy mutant taps into her drained powers. Compressed air instantly disassembles to reveal the unconscious figure. Blistering pain sears through her veins while her stomach lurches in nausea. Silky strands of chestnut from memory are now matted and chopped haphazardly. Angry red lines slash across high cheekbones and blemish the sloping curve of her delicate jawline. Needle marks riddle stark white skin and Kaeha's gut lurches at the latticework of bruises coiled around her temples.

Healthy muscle has withered away, leaving behind bones that desperately cling to sickly skin. Ratty clothes drown her scrawny build in a sea of patchworks and cheap material. Kaeha nearly breaks down into tears. Never once had she seen Talia Malik look so _broken_.

"Mama." She whispers in anguish.

Long seconds are spent crouched beside her, too afraid to touch in case she shatters. It's Erik that ceases her paralytic stupor by kneeling beside Kaeha. Sharp winter irises critically examine the unconscious brunette. He nods to himself at whatever mental assessment her mother passed. Erik's gaze when he turns to face Kaeha is gentle yet unyielding.

"We need to go. I can take her." He states, his baritone voice soft and almost tender.

_Please._ Kaeha projects when her own voice feels raw and fragile.

Muscled arms gingerly curl around frail limbs as Erik cradles Talia to his chest. Kaeha wordlessly rises to her feet, eyes darting between shadowed hallways and her comatose mother with each brisk step.

The rush of adrenaline fades as the pain from numerous injuries replaces it. When she stumbles, Erik smoothly intercepts her collision course by bracing her upright with his shoulder. He doesn't verbally offer physical support but his meaningful gaze is enough to communicate the tentative offer.

Tanned fingers latch onto his sleeve, holding on tight as Kaeha blindly follows Erik's footsteps through the maze. Sunlight burns against her retinas after levels of darkness and dingy lighting.

Relief at the sound of Moira's welcoming shout unleashes the crippling exhaustion she held at bay. Hank swoops in just in time to catch her as Kaeha topples forward like a fallen tree. The last thing she sees is Erik hovering behind a blue shoulder in wide-eyed panic.

_I'm here. I'm right here._ He whispers, the reassurance fraying with anxiety.

_I know._ She slurs, succumbing to the overwhelming allure of unconsciousness without concern.

After all, Erik is here.

* * *

Hank practically flies off of his chair when there's a slight shift from vigilant monitors. Coffee spills across cuffed loafers and papers littering the floor but he doesn't care. Hank cradles Kaeha's smaller palm, as he always does whenever she's asleep in the medic bay, and waits with a bated breath.

Eyelashes flutter before groggy hazel irises gaze up at him. The breath of air he unknowingly withheld rushes out in a breathless huff. Even without telepathy, he nearly sees the gears churning in her head to discern her current location. Confusion marrs her face when she recognizes the various machines and sterile walls.

The medic bears witness to the exact moment her memories surge through the fog of bewilderment. Clarity snaps across hazel pools as her back lurches upright. Her gaze is fixed upon the door with single-minded focus while monitors erupt in loud wails.

Before Kaeha taps into her replenished powers to rip the tubes off, Hank squeezes her shoulder with enough force to gain her attention. It takes a large amount of willpower to not flinch under her piercing glare that truly _burns_.

Shaking off his nerves, Hank gazes back kindly and pitches his voice low. Softly spoken words force the brunette to place all her concentration in listening rather than rampaging through the mansion. Hank tightens his grip on her hand just to be sure.

"Your mother is safe; she's in a separate ward a few doors down. Moira tracked down a healer mutant - one of the kids you freed - to help. Between Lola and Charles, Talia is making wonderful progress. Erik hasn't left her side besides the few forced hours of sleep and meals. Kaeha, I promise, _everything is fine_." He murmurs gently.

The tension knotting strained muscles evaporate with his last few words. Kaeha falls limp against soft springs and blinks up at the ceiling in a daze. Hank's heart squeezes in sympathetic pain when unbidden tears cast a glassy veneer across her eyes.

"I... Is this real? Did I - have I actually saved her?" She chokes out, voice bridled in a plethora of emotion.

"You have." Hank replies simply.

His matter-of-fact tone left no room for her to refute the statement. Kaeha exhales a ragged breath which echoes her tearful relief. Vital signs displayed across various machinery inform the medic that her short burst of energy is withering. Heavy eyelids start to seal shut under the inescapable weight of sleep. A feeble squeeze returns his attention to the brunette.

"Don't leave?" Kaeha requests meekly.

A smile curves across his lips akin to a dazzling sun emerging from dense clouds. It isn't often when the energy mutant deigns to ask for assistance. Thus, Hank takes pains to ensure she never regrets the rare requests. Kaeha is already lulled into a steady slumber before he can answer. Regardless, Hank hooks a foot around a nearby stool before dragging it over to her bedside and assumes his requested position until Erik stops by to replace him.

"Trust me, none of us are ever leaving." He whispers, as confident in that fact as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.

_I promise._

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:**_

_**This is the part where I grovel at everyone's feet and beg for forgiveness. College assignments and unwillingness to part with this ficlet has created quite a writer's block. OTL  
**_

_**I finally managed to break through thanks to a wonderful review by '3broomstix' that got my arse into gear. Bless you by the way for such motivational words. C': Anyway, onwards with the plot and pardon the OOC-ness sil vous plait. \o/  
**_


	16. In The Sun

Calloused fingers absently rotate the metal sparrow hovering above his palm. It was an impulsive creation and one Erik vaguely regrets. He had spent his morning pacing hallways, mentally considering dismal methods to approach Kaeha.

Now that the illegal facilities have been shut down and her father is safely locked away, she no longer has reason to stay. It's now or never to ask her to join his cause. Erik knows better than to force it upon her - she could escape even with the limits on her mutation and there's a part of him that _detests_ the very idea of coercing her into anything.

It was inevitable, really. Thinking about her caused old memories of nights in dusty libraries to surface. Kaeha had spent insomniac nights sprawled on carpeted floors, rambling about irrelevant fancies to chase away nightmares she never disclosed. One was an odd fascination with sparrows.

Thus, without his own volition, the silver orb Erik was toying with morphed into said bird. He had every intention of destroying it the second its significance dawned on him. Despite that, Erik struggled to summon the will to follow through. Before his mind wanders too deeply on exactly _why_, a flash of auburn catches his attention.

He turns to the large bay windows overlooking the lawns. An aluminum wheelchair reinforced with polymer is abandoned by a tree. Kaeha's hair flashes copper in the sunlight like a bright beacon as she grips her mother's hands firmly. Even from this distance, Erik knows she's mumbling words of praise and encouragement.

_Hank's mandatory physical therapy_. His mind clarifies.

Talia responds with tight smiles, forcing one bandaged foot in front of the other. Her slender form quivers from the strenuous effort but she soldiers on regardless. Erik's lips twitch in approval. Although, the smile dissipates when Kaeha darts forward to catch her tumbling mother and flashes stark white bandages coiled around her waist.

Erik knows for a fact that those strips of gauze encompass her entire torso solely to cushion fractured ribs against possible impact. He was present when Hank reinforced the cotton shield with layers upon meticulous layers.

The medic had grumbled about suicidal brunettes and their aversion to proper treatment or care. Kaeha grinned, an actual one that was all teeth and dazzling light, and airily dismissed his concerns. Both Hank and Erik were too stunned to argue. He had smartly exited while Hank fumbled to string his thoughts back together.

However, Kaeha chooses that exact moment to tilt her head back and _laugh_. The sound is musical and filled to the brim with unbridled joy which is completely unlike her previous laughter of soft chuckles and restrained delight. Erik's mind blanks out before quickly grabbing hold of the audio and proceeds to burn it into memory.

"Bloody hell, she gave you the sparrow rant too." A familiar voice groans.

Erik would never admit it but he jumped; mind too absorbed in storing data to notice the thrum of a silver watch. Irises dart to the sculpture floating innocently by his shoulder. A desperate urge to tuck it away into his pocket bubbles forth.

The metallokinetic restrains himself since that would give away _far_ too much. Instead, he straightens his spine and turns to acknowledge a grinning Charles with a nod. The telepath rolls closer to examine his creation, admiring gaze sweeping across elaborate details and lifelike features.

"She'll adore it." Charles concludes with a delighted hum.

Erik remains silent yet tense muscles along his shoulders relax a fraction. Charles folds his hands elegantly in his lap, observing Talia and her giddy daughter with an adoring smile. Erik braces for impact when his beam turns sly.

"I never assumed you to use beautiful ornaments as bargaining tools." The scholar teases cheekily.

"I don't _need_ it to bargain a deal." He snaps in distaste.

Pale lips tighten into an incensed scowl when Erik realizes he fell into an obvious trap. Charles merely laughs into his fingers. He refuses to deign the telepath with a huff, settling for an affronted glare instead. His companion grins for a moment longer before sobering up into a serious expression. The sudden change is oddly expected.

"In all honesty, Kaeha is exactly what we needed: a guide back onto strayed paths. Each and everyone of us care about her deeply, especially Hank who's never been the same since Raven left. Whatever her choice after Talia's week of treatment ends, my team and I will honor and defend it if need be." Charles declares.

Erik is far from oblivious to the subtle warning. It was completely unnecessary though; only a blind man couldn't see the fierce loyalty she garnered. Kaeha slipped into the roles everyone unconsciously needed, even Erik himself if he were honest.

Thus, the metal bender doesn't deny the blatant truth. He blinks twice, allowing the steel-laced words to sink into his bones, before facing forward to continue watch over mother and daughter. Charles's presence loosens his short leash on his emotions as a tinge of melancholy ebbs into his veins. Lips twitch into a small smile colored with shades of unsaid yearning.

"Even if I dislike it?" He asks, voice pitched low as it only does when sharing thoughts that were never meant to be said aloud.

"Yes, my friend, even if we dislike it." Charles agrees sadly.

He doesn't deflect the gentle rest of fingertips on his knuckles. Instead, winter blue irises shutter close as Erik Lehnsherr indulges in a moment of _fear_. Fear of losing this careful balance with Charles. Fear of making wrong choices. Fear of undoing all the progress he's made as a person and a leader.

Most importantly, fear of losing someone he desperately wants to hold onto.

* * *

"_Go_." An exasperated voice commands, stern order ruined by a breathless chuckle.

Kaeha grins and allows half of her weight to press into pushing palms. The resistance is too much for Talia to bear and she laughs when her daughter flops onto the sheets. Of course, the energy mutant carefully avoided healing limbs before crashing into the duvet. After a few seconds and insistent tugs on her hair, she clambers back to her feet.

"Will you be alright?" Kaeha questions for the umpteenth time.

There are times when she thinks this is all a cruel dream. Kaeha still waits for her mother to vanish into air and Killian to take her place with feral scowls and crippling drugs. It's a paranoia she has yet to overcome now or possibly ever.

"_Of course_. Besides, that lovely young man always checks on me when you or Charles can't." Talia reminds.

Sheer practice keeps Kaeha from freezing as she continues her casual nod and effortless smile. The facade is perfect yet completely useless in the face of her mother. Rosy lips quirk into an amused, omniscient smirk. Proud shoulders drop as the petite brunette tries not to look like a child caught red handed.

"I may not be as powerful as Charles but I've had years to acclimate to your thought patterns. They sing a different tune when you talk about him." Talia gently points out.

"He's merely different; predatory, if you will." She retorts in an almost petulant tone.

"_He_ means something to you." Her mother corrects.

This time, Kaeha winces. Fingers roughly rake through auburn locks as she scrambles for an excuse. Her mind turns up nothing, dull and slow and completely unwilling to lie to her parent. She sighs and perches on the edge of the bed. A moment is spent trying to piece her thoughts together. The words are awkward and heavy on her tongue but she pushes through under her mother's encouraging gaze and gentle squeezes of her hand.

"Erik is - he's someone I may _consider_ having feelings for. He's a paradox; completely dangerous and sharp edges but there's no one I'd trust more. He's the furthest thing from 'safe' but that's exactly how I feel around him and that _frightens_ me." She confesses in a graceless rush.

Talia is quiet, processing the honest syllables without emitting a single judgmental wave of emotion. Elegant fingers twine through her bronzed digits, mental bond slowly stirring to life in a building stream of familiar energy.

_What do you want to do?_ Her mother's delicate voice echoes in her mind.

_I gathered some money before blowing up the facilities. It's not much but more than enough to start a new life. We could disappear, as planned._ She offers.

_No, my dear, what do _you_ want to do?_ Talia inquires, mirth threaded through the disembodied words.

The question ceases words conjured by her mind in an automatic response. Kaeha never considered any other path beyond saving her mother and fading into invisibility. Then again, Charles and Erik and the mansion's residents weren't existing variables at the time. Her current situation is drastically different than before.

Talia smiles, happy to provide food for thought, and sends her daughter off with a dismissive press of lips to Kaeha's cheek. Feet tread the memorized pathway without any active mental input. The energy mutant is completely immersed in her head, considering various options before throwing useless ones away and putting aside viable routes for further examination.

Corridor lights are the sole reason she narrowly avoids stepping on the shiny object. A flash of metallic silver by her ankle derails her train of thought. Slender limbs dip into a crouch to pick up the unexpected surprise. Kaeha blinks once then outright gapes when she recognizes the delicate curve of a sparrow's wing.

By this degree of advanced workmanship, Kaeha knows only one with such skills: Erik. Palms cradle the sparrow as though it were made of fragile glass than sturdy silver. Nudging her door open, she steps into her room and adds the stunning creation to the erratic series of mementos she gathered. Eyes sweep over each item in fondness.

A collection of underrated poems from Charles. Astrology books loaned by Hank. Ridiculous bobble-heads Sean thought were funny. A wolf carving from Alex. Cufflinks she filched from Janos when he acted like a prat. A small dagger from Azazel. Hell, she even has a thin plain bracelet from Emma after she grew tired of it.

The motley collection echoes the life she forged here: mismatched and dysfunctional yet always together. She would have to forsake all of this wonderful chaos if she left. However, Kaeha would never permit her mother to stay. Talia Malik is a strong woman but one weary of brutality and craving a simple existence.

Life at the Xavier Institute is hardly simplistic and far too perilous. Sighing heavily, Kaeha buries her face into waiting palms. A decision would not be easy and she has less than a week to make one. Peeking through the spaces between her fingers, Kaeha glares at the sparrow.

It reminds her too much of abandoned libraries, flickering firelight and an occasional laugh or shark-like grin. She reaches out to poke the inanimate animal none too kindly. Emotions flared from the associated memory and now Kaeha is more torn than ever.

"That's foul play, Lehnsherr." She grumbles.

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:  
**_

_**Finals are officially over and now I can finally write again. The long wait killed me inside, ugh. OTL Life is hectic for now but I shall try my best to update soon. Bear with me, lovely readers and reviewers. *bows humbly***_

_**Well, at least there's some acknowledgement of the fuzzy feelings I'm pants at writing. Thank you lot so much for reading and following this! C':  
**_


	17. Farewell

Erik may be known for brooding but he certainly isn't fond of it. Dark thoughts escaping their mountains of locks to prowl his mind and question his sanity isn't pleasant after all. Regardless, here he is, perched on the kitchen counter and doing exactly that with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

The metal bender can't sleep and the one place that offered him most peace is the same one that would cause more distress. A migraine knocks against his temple at the mere notion. The silence temporarily dulled it down until yearning thoughts got too loud. Erik is about to abandon his drink in favor of punching a bag of sand into oblivion at the gym when he catches a familiar thrum of metal.

He recognizes the unique resonance made by twin loops of thin copper earrings. When Talia rounds the bend, Erik quickly leaps off of the counter. She laughs and beams in honest appreciation when he pulls out a chair for her.

"Can't sleep, dear one?" Talia questions knowingly.

Erik nods in a muted _yes_ as he turns back to the coffee machine to pour the telepath her own cup. Thin fingers curl around the handle as Talia sips at the caffeine. The metallokinetic relaxes and stiffens at her sigh of bliss. While pleased he made Talia happy, Erik is also wary of her. After all, she's the indirect cause of his present insomnia with tonight being the eve of her departure.

"Charles mentioned an alliance." Talia remarks, a question underlying her tone.

The fierce man is caught off guard at the random question but easily regains his footing after a flustered moment.

"We agreed it would be more beneficial to be united than divided. The mutants under my lead will form a team to handle anti-mutant activities or rescue missions. Every other day will be spent teaching students within the fields assigned to us." Erik relays, reciting facts from his discussion with Charles days before.

"Is everyone amicable to that?" The telepath inquires in genuine curiosity.

"A few complaints but overall, yes, we accepted it." Erik concludes.

Talia hums in delighted approval before taking another sip of her drink. Her smile slowly softens with the deep-rooted affection reserved only for her daughter as the seconds tick by. Erik nearly flinches when the molten gaze is directed at him. It reminds him far too much of his own mother and Erik feels lost to receive such a tender look.

"Take care of her." She quietly requests.

Calloused fingers claw into the counter edge he's reclined against when hope jolts through his veins. The metallokinetic forces himself to not get carried away, to settle back against cold marble and school facial features into a mask of indifference. He gives up on barring the emotions flickering across his far too expressive gaze.

"She isn't going with you?" He breathes out.

"Let's be honest; if Kaeha was right by your side or if she was far away, would you cease watching over her?" Talia asks in a soft murmur.

"No." Erik instantly answers, the reply a well examined fact he already accepted weeks before.

As much as he is prepared for the unexpected in battles, Erik _never_ expects Talia to wrap him up in a hug that could crush his ribs. He would later blame losing his breath from the strength of her embrace instead of being overwhelmed by the joy of rare human contact. Erik remains frozen in place even after Talia departs, leaving a trail of soft chuckles in her wake.

Finally, _finally _when he's able to robotically lift his mug and drain his cold coffee, Erik is able to think. He's not completely reassured, of course. Talia was intentionally cryptic and never truly revealed whether Kaeha would stay or leave. Despite that, the metal manipulator can't entirely dismiss the pool of warmth settled against his chest like a curled cat.

It suspiciously feels like affection which Erik doesn't try to parcel into a box and toss away as per usual. Instead, he submerges in it until lingering doubts ebb away and tranquility returns to his mind.

After all, he believes in Kaeha Malik and that's _enough_.

* * *

"Aren't you a stunning piece of work?" An amused voice calls out.

Kaeha's gaze shifts from the healing strip of skin reflected in the mirror to the lounging figure by the door. Lips curve into a wide grin upon seeing the familiar planes of Moira's face. Raising a delicate eyebrow, rumbling laughter spills out of her throat as she turns back to the plethora of fading yellow-brown bruises.

"That's what I've been told by my adoring legion of fans, yes." Kaeha dryly replies.

Moira chuckles and her mirth lacks its usual tense vein. Kaeha chalks it up to the fact that, for once, the CIA agent isn't here to reveal apocalyptic news or drag her friends into human-mutant skirmishes. No, today Moira is here for a peaceful affair and it shows in the slight bounce of each step.

Turning on her heel, tanned arms spring apart to trap the approaching agent in a tight hug. Kaeha holds on for a little longer than usual and Moira responds by holding her closer. When they part, Moira scans her face in a concerned sweep of dark irises.

"Are you sure about this?" She questions gently.

"I'm fairly sure." Kaeha replies around a nervous laugh.

Her friend says no more, smiling as she escorts Kaeha down sunlit hallways. She fills the journey by discussing each facet of their plans in muted tones. They run through identification papers, stronghold locations and evacuation procedures twice before arriving at spacious courtyards.

Skittish nerves fade when Kaeha spies thick locks of wheat knotted in a familiar chignon and the metallic shine from spectacles she once broke long ago. The slender blonde cuts off her conversation with Talia at the sound of thundering footsteps. Deceptively thin arms easily catch the hurtling brunette in a tight embrace. Soft peals of laughter fill the air when the sheer force of their hug sends them spiraling around in a circle.

"Catherine!" Kaeha cheers, crushing the researcher closer despite the ache of protesting bruises.

"I've missed you too." Catherine grunts in amusement, slender fingers curling into Kaeha's shirt to give as much as she got.

Nostalgia prolongs their embrace longer than either intended until Catherine untangles herself to pick up a folder from the briefcase deposited by her ankle. Transparent pages spill open and Talia's face flashes in all of its glossy photograph glory. The blonde spares a quick glance over printed words before nodding to herself.

"Everything's in order, as per your request. The location is a nondescript town; functional yet completely under the radar. Talia will be housed with the other mutants you gave the green light for. Tobias - my assistant, you remember - and I will watch over them and any hint of danger will be relayed directly to Charles via Hank's communicators or a telepathic bond." Catherine relays coolly.

The matter-of-fact tone stirs up old memories. Kaeha remembers the same factual voice stating she would pop in a dislocated shoulder or begin stitching a deep wound when energy dampeners prevented the mutant from self-healing. She trusted Catherine with her life then; she trusts the same voice even now. The brunette nods and darts a look over her shoulder at her mother.

"May we have a moment?" Kaeha requests in a voice far too strained for her liking.

"Of course." Catherine murmurs before walking a respectful distance away.

Once the slender figure is out of earshot, Kaeha inhales a deep breath and slowly turns around. Talia greets her with a bright smile and wordlessly scoops up tanned fingers to cradle them in warm palms. The familiar touch is grounding and yet earth shattering at the same time.

_This may be the last time in a long while._ She realizes woefully.

"Mama, I - " Kaeha starts only for her throat to close up and her voice to crack.

"You - _we_ will be okay. I won't ever be too far away; one call and I would return no matter what." Talia declares passionately, words quiet but reinforced in steel.

Succumbing to the growing urge, Kaeha throws herself into her mother's arms and clings on for dear life. It's reminiscent of a time when Kaeha was deathly afraid of the dark as a child and only Talia's warmth granted her enough peace to sleep.

Now, _now_ she's just saying goodbye even though it's not quite a farewell. They part slowly, fingers lingering over skin and fabric as they walk over to Catherine. The kind scientist offers her arm which the telepath gratefully accepts. Kaeha receives one final beam and a mouthed _be strong; I love you _before her mother boards the purring vehicle. Catherine follows after but pauses with one foot in, looking over her shoulder to throw the mutant a cajoling look.

"If you ever change your mind, there will always a room with your name on it." She offers.

Kaeha blinks in stunned surprise, pondering for a second how Catherine knew she made a decision and promptly discarding the thought as Catherine always was eerily perceptive. Then, the suggestion actually sinks in and a tidal wave of gratitude and honor washes over her as she fumbles to find the right words.

"_Thank you_ for everything you've done." Kaeha finally answers.

It's inadequate and clumsy but somehow enough. Catherine grins, golden head dipping in a proud nod before clambering in. A pale hand pats the roof as a signal for the bulletproof vehicle to roll down the pristine driveway. Kaeha watches the sleek jeep fade away and remains standing there until a warm hand touches hers.

"Are you alright?" Hank questions softly.

"I think I will be." Kaeha breathes with a shaky smile.

When an arm slings around her shoulders and tugs her close, Kaeha gladly leans into his reassuring warmth. Hank has always been the best friend brimming with brotherly affection and hen-mother tendencies. She's never been so grateful to have him by her side as now. Merely by holding her, Hank easily bats aside the creeping loneliness.

His lithe arm squeezes once before slowly steering her around to face Xavier Mansion. Her bewildered look garners a chuckle and a pointed look towards the kitchen window. Kaeha is still confused until she taps into her mutation. The energy signature of a thunderstorm just barely contained within a glass case is unmistakable and painfully familiar: Erik.

"Good luck." Hank wishes, completely sincere save for his amused smirk.

"Right." Kaeha replies, steeling herself for the impending talk and straightens her spine.

Fingers twine around hers to offer one last show of support before disengaging. Warm eyes trail her back as the energy mutant heads for large glass doors. Kaeha knows all she would have to do is swivel around in doubt to receive Hank's broad grin and both his thumbs quirked upwards in a gesture of good luck. However, Kaeha has no doubts about Erik and wonders if she ever did.

She never turns back.

* * *

_**Typical Mini Rant:  
**_

_**Alright, this was initially supposed to be the end but I felt the summit of their relationship didn't deserve to be rushed. Thus, there will be one final chapter after this for all those fuzzy gooey feelings. C':**_

_**I would like to thank each wonderful soul that stuck around despite my erratic updates. I'm currently in the midst of packing my life in luggage cases to study abroad which leaves little room for a timely schedule. I promise I will endeavor to update as soon as humanly possible though! :D**_


	18. Hearts on Sleeves

Attuned metal sensors instinctively track twin loops of pure silver as they head inwards. It never ceases to scare Erik how his mind and body gravitates around Kaeha so easily. The act is second nature now, as seamless and important as drawing his next breath.

He's grateful when she stops at the corner and lingers. A thin loop moves to rest against her torso and trembles with each inhaled breath. Erik mirrors the slow and steady pattern, filling his lungs with air that heals and mends fissures in his frayed composure. His flimsy excuse for a defense evaporates when auburn tresses appear in the doorway. Cold ice spreads through his veins as Erik shifts in discomfort when his stomach drops.

_ This could be it. She's leaving. She's _leaving_. _Panicked voices scream in his mind.

Then, Erik grimly decides:_ fuck that. _

Pale blue eyes sweep across the petite brunette in wild determination to memorize every detail. For once, Erik actually_ looks_ at Kaeha Malik. He never noticed the delicate jawline she shared with her mother or high cheekbones that appear cruel until a smile revealed hidden dimples.

Almond shaped eyes adorned with hazel irises flecked in rich greens and golds dazzle under the gentle morning sunlight. Thin scars form a never-ending cobweb, peppering a slender neck and expanding past narrow shoulders to lithe limbs endlessly.

Her fingers are what he appreciates most: thin digits layered in calluses from harsh training yet painfully gentle when she holds his hand. Perhaps he appreciates them for reasons that go beyond aesthetic appeal. Perhaps he's getting better at lying to himself too.

"We need to talk." She boldly declares without preamble.

Erik loathes the small fragment of his soul that falls harder for her constant bravery and honesty. Swallowing thickly, he reins in bubbling emotions with a sharp yank. Kaeha would never scan his emotions for something so personal but she wouldn't have to if they screamed at her sensors. Expertly concealing his inner turmoil, Erik nods in a stiff motion.

She bypasses the chair he pulled out for her and chooses to lean against the table instead. Kaeha is only three steps away yet her mind is lodged knee-deep in distant memories. Erik waits patiently, accustomed to the methodical way she organizes her thoughts. Fingers clench into a tight fist when the urge to drum them against the counter in a nervous pattern surfaces. He has more control than that. He_ has more control than that._

"Charles stopped me after dinner last night." Kaeha abruptly states.

"What about it?" He responds, voice shockingly steady despite his throat clamming up.

"He offered me a position in teaching English. The man knows my fatal weakness for literature." She explains with a wry laugh.

The mental image is instantaneous. It's easy enough to visualize Kaeha in a classroom, creating a brilliant world from dry works using animated gestures and overwhelming joy in her voice from sharing her passion. The students would be smitten. Behind his back, pale fingers tighten until nails nearly draw blood from his palm. It isn't good enough. Choosing the job meant she would be here and within his range but she could still-

"I turned it down." The energy mutant murmurs hesitantly.

Every muscle in Erik's lithe frame goes perfectly still, taut in anxiety while the roaring in his ears reach deafening volumes. Hesitant hazel irises lift from the floor to meet his blank stare. He reads Kaeha's desire to reach out and touch his shoulder in careful concern when it flickers into her gaze. A terse shake of his head keeps tanned fingers pressed atop the table. It takes a few tries to get his voice to function but Kaeha is patient and Erik hates surrendering.

"You're leaving with Talia then." He dully concludes.

Of course, it was a perfectly logical decision. Abandoning Talia, regardless of how protected she may be, would be an act even Erik would have doubts over._ Of course._ Folding into himself, invisible fingers feebly reach for the neat compartments nestled within his mind.

A drawer is yanked open and the metal bender focuses on compressing all the emotions tied to Kaeha into the narrow space. It's how the sharp angles of his mind function best: package up unnecessary emotions and drown them in a sea of indifference.

Erik is unable to afford pining after someone he can't have, not with oppressed and neglected mutants beyond Xavier walls. Thus, fingers push and _push_ at bundled emotions to no avail; there's just far too much to seal away.

Despair dances along the outskirts of his frazzled mind. It nearly drags his fragile mental state into a downwards spiral until a sudden flare of warmth erupts through desolate thoughts. Erik startles as pale blue irises snap downwards towards the source. Bronzed digits curl tighter around his wrists in a forceful squeeze.

A pointed look from the slender woman is enough to warrant a brief scan of their surroundings. His wrist flicks in a sharp motion and electronic appliances cease rattling from the temporary lax in control. Drifting attention focuses back on the brunette when her fingers slowly slide off of his skin. Bittersweet longing stabs through his heart, aching for the almost burning heat of her touch.

"_Erik_, I'm not going." Kaeha huffs, tone gentle yet somehow patronizing as though she took personal offense at the notion.

Careening trains of thoughts skid to a jolted halt. Muscles move on impulse causing feet to shuffle forward and close the minimal distance between them. The sole fragment of his functioning mind notices and revels in the lack of cringing on Kaeha's part from the invasion of personal space. Moments when she hated Erik being within a ten mile radius seem so distant now.

"Why?" Erik questions, utterly dumfounded and foolishly hopeful.

* * *

_I really should have practiced for this._ She mutters.

Quivering fingers reach around to rub the back of her neck while her gaze flits back towards the floor. This time, Kaeha tilts her body backwards when her mind demands breathing space to string coherent thoughts. Erik, mercifully, allows it. Heat creeps up high cheekbones and lurk around the tips of her ears when the right words elude her grasp. Frustration hacks away at her conviction and she swears mentally when her voice trembles.

"Well, I thought the position of Martial Arts instructor suited my skill set better. Best not to waste all that training I was forced into." The energy mutant carefully elaborates.

Surprised knowledge skitters into his gaze and Kaeha is able to pinpoint the _exact_ moment Erik realizes she's stalling. Lips seal shut to withhold the indignant protest bubbling in her throat when the frown on his face twitches into an amused smirk. A stern glare settles into hazel irises to rebuke him when she _knows_ a sarcastic remark dances at the tip of his tongue.

"And?" He prompts instead, voice reduced to a breathless whisper and laced in layers of undecipherable emotion.

Kaeha swallows a nervous gulp of air and nearly runs out of the kitchen with a blabbered excuse before she decides _fuck it_. Raising her chin in a defiant jerk, shoulders square and eyes raise to his face in blazing challenge. Toned arms cross along her torso to portray a faux image of bravado as the petite brunette exhales a sharp scoff.

"And I have these maddening feelings for you, Erik. A tad difficult to just up and leave, right?" Kaeha casually states.

Now, if she pictured a miniature version of herself doing imaginary cartwheels when Erik reels back and _gawks_, she would admit nothing. Fingers itch to wring her wrists when Erik mouths half-formed syllables as he tries to digests the presumably absurd idea.

Soaring confidence takes a sharp downwards plummet when eyebrows furrow and disbelief mars his angular face. Kaeha quickly cuts Erik off, jittery laughter filling the air regardless how hard the energy manipulator tries to quell it.

"_Ridiculous_, I know. Trust me, I'm aware you have no time to spare my clearly one sided feelings," she rants in a clumsy rush, "and I promise you I will get over them. This - whatever _this_ is - won't jeopardize our partnership or future missions. I refuse to - "

Words morph into a strangled squeak when her body stumbles forward without warning and there's a sudden explosion of all-consuming _heat_. Searing warmth brand across her neck and knot into locks of auburn in an imprint of familiar calloused fingers. Warmth sinks into her mind and numbs each firing neuron until all that's left is a jumbled mess of derailed thoughts.

It feels like falling into place, like rushing adrenaline, like coming _home _and Kaeha only realizes Erik is actually kissing her when she's returning the pressure with equal ardor. Muscles coil and flex to take, take, _take_ despite lungs howling in protest or her head spinning in wild circles. Kaeha ignores it all; far too focused on the intoxicating kiss and the enveloping crisp scent of Erik's that's a mixture of detergent and underlying metallic tinge.

Eventually the duo part ways when their choices are narrowed to continuing the passionate gesture and suffocate or granting their lungs reprieve with air. Ragged breaths fan against bruised mouths in erratic rasps. Heady warmth still thrums through her veins and Kaeha lets out a breathless laugh when lamps flicker from her buzzing powers.

_So much for control._ She chuckles in amusement.

"I'll take that as a 'yes, Kaeha Malik, I admire you with all my heart and beyond' then." Kaeha quips, voice rising dramatically at the silly proclamation.

A bark of laughter tumbles out of his throat which paints a similar grin upon her own lips. However, her muddled mind finally catches up to note the lack of response. Eyelids flutter open to find wintry irises gazing upon her in deep thought while a thumb traces tantalizing circles against the nape of her neck.

Curiosity spikes as Kaeha catalogs his expression: knitted eyebrows, clenched jaw and tensed shoulders. She knows this is the face Erik makes when scrounging through old memories for a piece of forgotten information or forcibly memorized data. Arching an eyebrow, the energy mutant is about to dryly point out this moment isn't the time to mention her accidental torching of his leather jacket when he speaks.

"_My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you._" Erik whispers tenderly, slight hesitance in his voice at recounting a possibly faulty memory.

Choking on her breath, Kaeha gapes at the amused man while her emotions shift from surprise to bewilderment and finally settling on flattered. Of course, she recognized the line from _Pride and Prejudice_. The novel is a secret indulgence for her inner romantic, dog-eared at that exact page and - _and_ one she read often in those old libraries with Erik during insomniac nights.

_He noticed._ Her mind trills in excitement, touched by the small yet meaningful gesture.

Another rumbling laugh tears her out of glowing thoughts as calloused pads caress the flushed skin along her cheekbones. Light dances in his gaze from elation before dimming slightly when Erik turns serious and almost vulnerable. On instinct, her spine straightens as she devotes her entire attention towards the metallokinetic. This is important, she knows it.

"Will you stay?" Erik questions in a quiet murmur.

Kaeha understands the complexity of the seemingly straightforward request. Erik is talking of times that extend beyond this simple point; moments when priorities and ethics would clash; moments of irrational arguments and hurtful words; moments of possibly regretting this pending decision. This is Erik offering one last chance to escape a relationship that will never end even once feelings fade.

Her answer is still the same though.

"I'll stay."

* * *

**_Final Mini Rant:  
_**

**_Ohmeingott it's over. I can't believe it's actually over. Thank you so much dear readers and pillars of my strength for following, reading and supporting me endlessly. It really means the world to me and there will always be a special place in my teensy little heart for you lot. C':_**

**_I'm contemplating another mini-series for extra/deleted scenes that I couldn't put into this series due to my severe attachment for this universe. If it works out, I will update this with a link. For now, thanks so much again for sticking with me until the end! *smothers everyone in hugs*_**


	19. My Eternal Gratitude and Thanks

Hullo hullo my wonderful readers whom I worship and adore! As promised, I've written one of those 'behind the scenes' stories that wasn't included into _Forging Middle Ground_ as it didn't really have much plot development value. So here's a brand new story instead! *cheers like a manic idiot in a rain of confetti*

The awesome link: s/11115136/1/Everything-In-Between

Now on to the emotional bits that I'm always pathetic at capturing. *smiles sheepishly* Thank you so very much to everyone that has read, favorited, viewed and left a review. Each rising number raised my spirits and always drove me to keep writing despite a hectic schedule or to push through a long, agonizing phase of writer's block.

I truly couldn't have done it without each and every one of you. Your endless support has been heartwarming and humbling for an amateur writer like me. Never once in my life have I thought my writing could garner this much interest. I honestly assumed I would never get past twenty readers and, well, to be where I am right now with you lot just makes me so happy I could cry.

Once again, thank you for reading and supporting me through this wonderful journey. It's been a brilliant and truly memorable ride that I will carry with me over the years.

_Thank you._


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